The New World
by hummingbird.rdh
Summary: When Kurt Hummel is forced to leave England for his own safety, he meets a mysterious native who exposes him to a whole new world. But will they live happily ever after, or be torn apart by outside forces? Set in late 1600s.
1. Chapter 1

On a chilly day in February, a young man of 18 nervously strode along the cobbled ground with a small bag containing all the valuables and necessities he could carry. The breeze blew his chestnut hair into his eyes, frazzling him even more so. His pale skin was covered with goosebumps and the rising wind was nipping his cheeks to a lovely pink. His step-mother and father were walking along either side of the boy, the former attempting to blink back the approaching tears from her eyes, the latter determined to keep up the gruff expression he'd worked so long to perfect. The boy's fairly knew-found step-brother trailed along close behind with a strange expression of nervousness and sadness, but a more overpowering look of excitement.

As they approached the docks, their mixed emotions amplified, leaving all four of their stomaches doing flips for one reason or another. They knew the inevitable goodbyes were approaching swiftly, but as much their parting would hurt, the separation would not last forever. That was a promise Burt and Carol Hummel had made and they intended to keep it. Going all the way across the Atlantic Ocean was not a cost that most could make on a whim, especially not the Hummels. But they were getting there, little-by-little. Burt Hummel was working like a dog day in and day out as it was, running and operating his own specialty garage that tended to the majority of the horse-and-buggies in their small town of Lima. But before it was easier, he had two well capable sons helping him out almost everyday. And though his shop was fairly successful, the money just was not coming in fast enough to supply voyage for four adults. So he had made the decision to send his sons ahead, hoping to God that they would make it on their own for a while. He understood that time was of the essence and this was the safest route for everyone. As long as Kurt was safe, that's all that mattered.

Kurt had not felt safe since his last few years of schooling, being teased and bullied for the way he sounded, the way he looked, the way people assumed he was. Kurt, himself, had never had much of a problem with his voice. It wasn't ideal, but he had to look on the bright side; he could sing. He would spend hours singing around the house, along the trails on his land, humming while helping Burt and Finn with the buggies."Sings like a angel" his mother had said. But Kurt was not dumb, nor was he blind. He would never be caught dead humming a tune outside the safety of is home. He knew what people thought of him before he ever opened his mouth. He hated it. His mother had hated it. His father and step-mother, Carol hated it, but what could they do? They had to leave their ignorance be, and hopefully they would give Kurt and his family the same respect.

But the looks and sniggers were nothing. Not compared to the fear that was Dave Karofsky. Kurt had not seen Dave Karofsky in years up until recently. The boy had a vengeance against Kurt treating him more harshly than any other homophobe before, even leading to death-threats. After that Burt pulled him out of what limited schooling that was available and let him work full-time. But even so, they could not do anything to stop the harassment from its resurgence, prompting his immediate removal to the new land across the sea.

When posters promoting the new colonies in Virginia were hung, Burt had the idea to just start fresh, hoping to escape the torment of the violent ignorance. They purchased two tickets: one for Kurt and one for Finn. There was no way Burt was letting Kurt go alone, and Finn wanted to see more of the world than the small, rustic village of Lima. Not to mention devastation over his most recent breakup with Rachel. Or Quinn? Who knew, at this point. So Kurt and Finn would travel ahead to Virginia, and await their parents for some months until they could afford the voyage.

And though the plan seemed simple, Kurt was always one to panic. _What if I get seasick? What if theirs a head wind and it takes too long to get there and there's no food left and the men resort to cannibalism? What if Pirates seize our ship and steal the new boots I got for the trip? What if- _He was pulled from his reverie when he bumped into Finn who had somehow run ahead of him without Kurt noticing. Finn was staring in awe at the ship where men were finishing loading up the barrels of food and drink and was starting to let on passengers. Kurt noticed they were at their destination and the butterflies (that felt more like angry badgers) returned to his tummy, " Oh God.." , he groaned. He was giving himself a headache with his worry, but he couldn't help it. Spending such a long time away from his father was a petrifying thought, let alone traveling on a floating deathtrap for weeks, perhaps months.. This was a lot to handle, but he knew he had to man up. He didn't need to give these men any extra reason to dislike him.

He turned to see his step-mother trying her very best to hide her tears. She was a warm-hearted woman who accepted and loved him as if he really were her child, and he would miss her terribly. "Try not to worry to much, love", she intoned comfortingly, hugging him tightly around his slim shoulders, " I know this is a lot for you to take in, but you'll be happier there. I'm sure of it."

His breath caught, " I'll miss you so much. I love you."

"I love you, too darling", she said around sniffles, " More than you know." She cleared her throat and pulled back to look him in the eyes, "Now you promise me something."

He nodded, not trusting his own voice.

" Promise you'll look after Finn. Now I know he was supposed to be going to support you, but.. out of the two of you, you've got a sturdier head on your shoulders."

Kurt choked out a laugh, while Finn looked like he was going for a 'hurt' look but, truly came off as affectionate." Of course, I am his big brother after all."

"By two months, mate, that barely classifies as 'big'," Finn looked at his brother triumphantly and added," Besides, I'm about a head taller than you."

Burt, having heard this squabble countless times, rolls his eyes, smiling. He knows how much he will miss their endless banter. When Kurt inevitably wins the argument, as per usual, he turns to his father. The sight Burt sees is the most simultaneously beautiful and tragic sight he's seen in a long time. Kurt's ice blue eyes are filled up with tears, forehead wrinkling at the realization that he won't be able to see or talk to Burt for a long, long while. And as hard as they both try to maintain those prized brave faces, Burt pulls his son into a gruff hug, both wanting to say so much, but not needing to.

Burt settles for a simple,"I love you, son." and "I'll miss you, good luck"

"I'll miss you too, Father. I love you." And that was all that needed to be said, because they knew, this change was not so much a separation, as it was a start of a new and better life. And they were all grateful for that, no matter how much it hurt. It was a promise that things would get better.

The time had come to go. The two young men grabbed their boarding passes, said one last quick goodbye to their parents and headed up the ramp, and onto the ship. Kurt turned and waved on last time to Burt and Carol, like most of the others on board to their own respected families. He and Finn watched the land grow smaller and fainter in the distance, knowing there was no turning back. And though that should have been a scary thought, it wasn't. Those butterflies or badgers or whatever they were had suddenly left. He felt right. Like this was the right decision, and he was also hoping, that his intuition was correct.


	2. Chapter 2

By the river, on the pebbly bank, shaded by the thick forest sits a young man. He is perched on a low branch, idly digging his unclothed feet into the wet sand and rocks. His clean, deer hide attire was loosely draped over his broad chest and shoulders. His short, dark hair, uncharacteristically curly, sticks slightly to his face from the humidity. His handsome face is kind but strong. His thick eyebrows are scrunched in concentration. The mosquitos, quietly buzzing around him and frogs croaking out their melancholy songs disturb him not. For this young man has his mind in the clouds, higher up in the clouds than usual. His amber eyes, which came from his European mother, are fixated to an imparticular point on the ground while he slowly, distractedly sharpens his arrowhead.

This is not an unusual occurrence. Blaine often walks, runs, swims, and paddles through miles of land to simply think. The Indian often finds it difficult to think with the chatter of the women in the village, or the shrieks of the children playing games, or the men spouting orders of where to hunt and how to hunt and how many animals to kill. Hearing the voices of people he would someday have the responsibility to lead and to protect made the anxiety grow further in his mind. Those who depended on him to be a solid, dependable chief someday. Nothing was set in stone, of course. His father was loved by the tribe. He never steered them wrong, and he had the power to let any one of his sons take his place as chief. And though Blaine was only half Indian, he was the eldest. Which, by tradition, meant he would probably be the next chief.

Blaine had no problem in becoming a leader. He grew up loving and taking care of the tribe as if they were all a tight-nit family. He knew he could lead, and be very effective and successful. He had been taught english by his mother, when she was alive, and though he was rusty, he and his father were sure that communication with the British colony close by would promote peace between them. He was strong and good tempered. He wanted the best for his people. On paper, he was the very definition of a great chief-to-be.

So, what was the problem?

To be a chief, he needed to establish an heir. To have an heir, he first needed a wife. He had no wife. Nor was he interested in any of the women in the village what so ever, much to their dismay. This was a problem, and one his father intended to fix. It was well known that Blaine was in need of a wife, but Blaine grew weary of the constant 'suggestions' of suitors from his father, along with the jealous glances from the other men of the tribe while the young women tossed their hair and batted their eyes. Again, to there dismay, Blaine hardly even noticed anymore.

This was why he was often in the forest or on the river. Life with the tribe was a constant reminder of his problems. And being away was a good distraction, but not good enough. He often caught his mind wandering, asking that question for the millionth time: _Why_? It was a question that he, for the life of him, simply could not find the answer to. _Maybe, I'm not meant to marry_. He thought, glumly. _Maybe I'm not meant to find love_. Oh, and wasn't that a depressing thought? It definitely was not the first time it came to his mind, but it stung him nonetheless.

He was so deep in thought, he did not hear the approaching footsteps until the unseen being was but five feet behind him. He jumped up, quickly turning on his heel, with bow and arrow in hand, pointing accusingly at the intruder.

"Woah! Calm down, friend, it's me!", said Wes, hands up by his head in surrender, eyes locked on the arrow pointed at his chest.

"Oh!", Blaine quickly put away his bow and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you coming."

"It's alright but _damn_!" Wes relaxes, holding his heart, "Next time let's try not to put an eye out, yeah? What's got you tense lately?"

Wes was Blaine's best friend, and he was one of the few Blaine would ever let his guard down around. Wes was the kind of person who could see through hypocrisy like nobody's business. And Blaine was nothing if not a charmer, with exotic good looks and a winning smile, he could wow anyone and everyone. Everyone but Wes. And that was how it had always been. That was why when it was just he and Wes, that charming smile dropped and authentic one would take it's place. Having someone know him for him only, and not the chief's handsome son, was a huge relief to Blaine. Knowing Wes wouldn't believe him if he'd lie and say 'nothing', Blaine heaved a great sigh, and mumbled, "Just a lot of stress, is all."

"What's this?" Wes proclaimed in faux shock, "The Great Prince Blaine is under stress! Well, I would assume sitting here doing nothing would stress me out, too, but alas I had to hunt all day, so I wouldn't know."

Blaine chuckled at his friend's antics, knowing Wes was trying to cheer him up, but the gesture meant a lot to him. He played along, "Oh, I know. I had to walk _all_ the way here! Tsk, It really is a burden."

Wes rolled his eyes and huffed. Blaine really could give as good as he got, but he had had a lot of practice, since he had known Wes his whole life. Wes patted his friends shoulder, gesturing for them to sit down."Now Blaine, what has _really_ been stressing you out?" He knew the answer, but wanted to be a good friend. The whole village was wondering why it was taking so long for Blaine to marry. Wes had his suspicions, but for now all he would do is listen and console.

Blaine sighed again,"My father won't get off my case. I know I need to marry soon, but… that's where I'm lost. I don't know why I don't want to marry. Maybe none of them are the girl for me?"

_Or the boy for you.. _Wes thought. He really did see through people. Especially Blaine. And while there were no outward signs leading him to this conclusion, he had a gut feeling about it. Of course, this was not a common path for their people, and while Wes would have no problem with Blaine, he wasn't completely sure about the rest of the tribe. After a moment's pause, stood up and looked down, offering a hand to help Blaine up. "I think you're problem is that you simply haven't found the one you're looking for. They'll come eventually, I'm sure of it."

Blaine looked dumbfounded. All this time, he hadn't thought of that as a possibility. He always assumed it was his fault for being too picky. He said, "Thanks Wes, maybe.. hopefully, you're right." then, " Wait, why were you looking for me in the first place?"

"Oh, I'd forgotten. You're… father sent me to fetch you. Something about 'starting you're future today rather than tomorrow', and- "

He was cut off by a frustrated groan from Blaine.

"Hey, it'll work out. You're father is a reasonable man. He will understand." He and Blaine walked home, to the rest of the tribe. Upon arriving, Blaine continued grudgingly toward his father's tent, mentally preparing himself to hear the same speech for the hundredth time.

* * *

Finn and Kurt had been on the ship for a week and a half, and were no where near their destination. Fortunately, the wind that had scared Kurt the day they left was only pushing them along faster. It didn't matter whether they reached land in a month or tomorrow, Kurt had promised to himself (and to Finn, rather heatedly) that he would never in his life board another boat. The fear had of sinking or drowning had subsided after gaining his sea legs, but that by no means made sailing the Atlantic fun. There was no privacy. Like, at all. None. And, dear Lord, that alone could set Kurt off ranting for an hour to Finn in hush tones. Raving about ho he couldn't even conduct his daily skin care regimen, and about the fact that by the time they got to America they wouldn't have truly bathed in six weeks. Six. Weeks. For those reasons he was thankful for the cold, but not at night. Not when the ceiling was leaking drops of water from the deck in the crowded bunk room where he had a humble cot next to Finn. Not when the rain pelted down and icily stung their skin. And not now, in the middle of the night curled up under his thin blanket trying his hardest to stifle his sniffles. And as little credit as the Hummels generally gave Finn, he loved Kurt and cared for him, as if they really had grown up together. Upon hearing his Step-brother let out a soft whimper, he sat up quietly, look around to make sure all the other passengers were asleep, and considering it was well past midnight, they probably were, and reached over to Kurt's cot, pulling back the blanket enough to see his face crumpled with sadness, trails of tears shining on his face, and his reddened eyes looking back at him. Finn was honestly taken aback. He hadn't seen Kurt cry since his last year of school, since then, when anything bad or upsetting would happen, Kurt's expression hardened, not showing any vulnerability what so ever. He slowly, cautiously reached out his hand to catch a tear that was running down Kurt's face, and to his relief, or perhaps regret, Kurt let him. In all honesty, he half- expected Kurt to smack his hand away and wave his pointer finger disapprovingly at him. This didn't happen, and Finn was worried.

"Kurt? Kurt, what's wrong?", he whispered.

Kurt took a long moment, then mumbled something incomprehensible into his blanket. Noticing his brother's quizzical expression, he said again, " I miss home."

His voice was so small and fragile that Finn wasn't sure what to say. He had never heard Kurt sound so broken. So he settled for, "Me too."

Kurt hid his face and tried to dry his eyes before once again settling his eyes on Finn and said in a barely audible whisper, " I'm sorry you had to do all this for me. It's all my fault."

"No!" Finn said a bit too loud. But what do you expect? How could Kurt think this was his fault? It wasn't, it was all those bloody homophobes that treated him so badly. He paused when he heard movement from another sleeping passenger, but when he stopped moving, Finn continued, quietly, heatedly, "Kurt, don't say that. This isn't you're fault, alright? None of it. It's those hateful people! I don't blame you, I blame them. Ok? And so do Burt and Mum."

Kurt still looked unconvinced, so Finn did the only thing he could think of. He leaned over and pulled Kurt's small frame into a siting position and moved over to the edge of his bed, tightly wrapping his arms around the boy. He tried to say what he had no idea how to say through that embrace. And though he really did expect Kurt to push him away, the boy just curl up even further, burying his face in his brothers shoulder trying to muffle his half-sobs. Finn was relieved to find he had made a good decision, as he looked around he was reminded of how many people were in the room, but he didn't really care, so long as Kurt was going to be ok. He simply held on for a few more minutes until Kurt sniffled and pulled away slowly, attempting to pull himself together. As Finn watched his face he noticed the transition from honest emotion to repressed formality. That speedy transition scared him, and saddened him, for he kew that it was one of Kurt's many defense mechanisms. He knew, at some point, he would get Kurt to open up more, but he also knew now was not the time to push. Instead, he simply ruffled his brothers hair and wish him goodnight, missing the outraged look of Kurt's face from his hair being touched, and laid down and went straight to sleep.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, the rough life of the passengers only grew more treacherous. As spring approached, the air warmed up a bit, but there was rain and storms the majority of days. And when these storms came, all the men aboard the ship crammed themselves into the lower deck for protection. At times like this, the sheer number of people in such a small space astounded Kurt, but he wasn't surprised when illness spread. No one was sure what the sickness was, for there were no bumps or blisters, and at first, the ill never even realized they were sick, until they woke up and could barely stand. The only symptoms were a throbbing headache, an increasingly high fever, and fatigue. Maybe if people actually _looked_ sick it could have been better avoided, but that didn't matter. It was spreading, and with only a few days left of the journey, Kurt started to feel the pain in his head and stumbled from the dizziness into another man.

"Hey, watch it!" The man snapped. On any other occasion, Kurt would have snapped back with a witty remark, but after being on the ship for so long, he could sympathize with irritability. Also, he didn't want to overexert himself and faint, further drawing attention to himself. So he muttered an apology and stumbled down the stairs to the lower deck, grabbing onto the railing and anything he could reach to keep himself upright. It was hot in the bunk room, for it was midday, but Kurt barely noticed. He reached up a hand to feel his forehead, gasping at the heat. He finally reached his humble bed and collapsed upon it, eyes falling shut and losing consciousness as soon as his head hit the bed.

Later, when he awoke, his eyes came into focus on the worried face of his brother. He rubbed his aching eyes and attempted to sit up, but Finn put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down, and held out a container of water. He sighs and reaches out to grab the flask. He wished he could pretend he was not sick, that if he fell back asleep, when he awoke, he would be perfectly fine. He had made it so long without getting sick; he felt it was a cruel irony to get so close to land and _then_ fall ill. He drank the tepid water, all the while cursing the universe, while Finn studied him with a worried look on his face.

"How do you feel?"

He sighed again, "Like death warmed up." Finn shot him a sympathetic look, and he added, "How much longer?"

"I talked to the captain while you were sleeping, he said that, if we're lucky, we'll dock late tomorrow night."

At any other point, Kurt would have jumped for joy, but now it was an effort to keep his head up. He laid his head back down and looked at Finn, "Do you think there will be a doctor in town?"

"Oh, I'm sure," He looked doubtful, "Maybe not the most dependable doctor, but I'm sure they'll have something." He dipped a cloth into a pale of water, folded it, and put it on Kurt's forehead. "Is there anything I can get you? Are you hungry? I can go get-"

"Finn," Finn silenced, "Shh." Kurt new Finn was trying to help, but his head was pounding and his brother's yammering wasn't helping him. "I'm just gonna go back to sleep." His eyes were already closing.

Finn nods in understanding and pulls the blanket up to Kurt's chin. He stands up, observing his already sleeping step-brother, and turns, walking up the stairs. He is worried. There had been reports of two men dying of similar afflictions, but Kurt didn't need to know that. Finn doesn't want to scare him. He knew they were lucky to be landing tomorrow. He was happy to sleep in a real bed soon. They had planned out every step of getting settled with their parents months before the left. Burt and Carole had wrote to Burt's cousin, Frederic, when they had first decided to move to America. Frederic and his wife, Emily, had only one child, but their house was slightly larger than average, due to Frederic's successful tobacco plantation, meaning they would have a small spare room for Finn and Kurt until they had worked enough to purchase land in the outskirts of town, where the land is cheapest. From there, they would build a house big enough for the four of them. They was very lucky to have relatives in high places, it would make the transition easier.

Finn leaned on the railing of the boat, looking out into the calm water. The ship was so crowded, and he hoped and prayed for the ship to land tomorrow.

* * *

Blaine entered the lean-to, striving to be on his best behavior so his father would get off his case. He stood inside by the entrance, waiting for his father to welcome him in.

"Blaine, my son! Where have you been all day?"

"Oh, you know..no where.." He said lamely. He hated these conversations. He knew how they started and, of course, he knew where it was headed.

"Well son, that's nice. So… how's.. life?" Blaine had to stifle a laugh. He loved his father and his ways of attempting to relate to his son.

"Pretty good.." Ugh, he knew it was coming, why not get it over with? "Is there something you wished to speak with me about?"

The chief paused, sensing a touch of masked exasperation to the younger's voice. "How is your English?"

This caused Blaine to start, "My English?"

"Yes, are you still fluent?"

"Umm.." Baline was confused, "yes sir. I mean it's a bit rusty, but I try to practice so I won't forget too much." In all honesty, when Blaine would go out on his adventures in solitude he often thought aloud, mostly in English, mostly because no one else from the village was fluent, meaning they would not understand if he were over heard, but also because he sincerely did not want to forget any small memories he had of his mother. After his mother died, his father had remarried and had two more sons, and while he loved the new additions to the family, it was never the same. English was his way of living in the past, to a brighter time. " May I ask why?"

"Well, news was received today from the town nearest here. Apparently, some sort of sickness has infected some of the new villagers. They said they had hoped that I could send our chief healer to help before any others were infected."

Blaine's eyebrows scrunched with incomprehension, "Do they not have a healer themselves?"

His father chuckled," As far as I can tell, he is known to be less that competent. So, they turned to us."

"But father, why help them? I mean, they have been nothing but hateful since they first arrived many years ago."

The chief sighed,"Because, son, no matter how harsh they have been, these people are suffering. We mustn't ever let our quarrels get in the way of the ill's well being. We may be separate, but we are one. We've helped them before and we'll help them again." It was true that there had been skirmishes during his father's ruling, but he was nothing if not compassionate. Blaine thought this to be one of the biggest reasons he was so beloved.

"I understand. But why ask of my English?" Blaine asked.

"Well I was hoping you could go with our healer. He does not know a single word of it and we need to be able to communicate."

"Of course.." he paused," but, why me, father? Not that I wouldn't go, but you speak the language probably better than I can."

"Yes, I probably do," he laughed," but I think it is high time you made an impression of yourself to the townspeople. They eventually need to meet the future chief."

Blaine was taken aback. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Here he was dreading another one of his father's nag-fests, and instead he gives him a great opportunity. He felt a bit foolish, " Well, sir, I'll be happy to do it. When are we to go?"

"First thing tomorrow morning." the chief replied," the message says there is a new ship of colonists coming tonight, and many of them are in need of our assistance."

* * *

When Kurt finally awoke, the first thing he noticed was how stationary the room was. Nothing was rocking or swaying, throwing him off the ledge of the bed. Next he noticed that he was warm, cuddled up under blankets. Then, as he opened his eyes, he saw that it was early, early morning, judging by the one window on the wall opposite him. The room was fairly small, wooden and square-shaped, with another small bed next to his that had appeared not to have been touched and a small fireplace crackling, emanating heat into the chilled air. He also noticed he was not alone. He saw his brother and a young, petite woman in modest dress, her pale blonde hair was pulled into a neat bun and a worried expression haunted over her usually cheerful features. In her arms she held a young girl, from the look of it, she couldn't have been over three or four years old.

"I'm worried. He's been sleeping so long, it can't be healthy," a hushed female voice said.

"Me too. I'm afraid if he doesn't get help soon, something terrible will happen," Finn, he assumed, said.

"What is the death toll?"

"I heard in town that another died, a child, maybe six or seven. So three over all, I assume."

In his semiconsciousness, Kurt couldn't quite understand what Finn and the woman were speaking of. When the pounding returned to his head, he let out a small groan.

They other inhabitance didn't notice Kurt's consciousness, until a small squeak came from the child. She pointed one of her short fingers directly at Kurt and tugged of the fabric of her mother's dress, while sporting an excited expression on her round face. This was when they finally noticed him and rushed over simultaneously.

"Kurt! Thank God! I was afraid you'd never wake up!" Finn nearly attacked his brother, mauling into a somewhat painful hug. "Oh, sorry", realizing that Kurt was still sick and every muscle was aching. He was currently attempting to fluff his brothers pillows and offer him various foods and beverages, not giving Kurt a chance to answer at all.

"Finn Hudson calm down, he's pale enough without you giving him a good fright!" The woman said, although she sounded more relieved than angry. She finally cracked a small smile and held out a cup of water. When she smiled, Kurt suddenly realized who she was. He hadn't seen her in years, since he was a child.

"Aunt Emily", Kurt attempted to rasp out. He didn't remember that being part of the sickness, so he attributed it to being asleep for so long.

"Oh, dear Kurt, I was afraid you wouldn't recognize me after all these years. You've grown up so much since we left England, I remember when you were this tall!" She raised her and to below her shoulder.

Kurt chuckled," Most of my growing has been pretty recent, late bloomer and all that." He'd always loved Aunt Emily when he was very young, and before she was his aunt, they would play together in any way they so pleased, she was like an extra mother when his own was so sick. When Emily and Fredric left for the colonies, Kurt was about ten, and it had been so long since he'd seen her. His eyes shifted over to the little girl who was now playfully poking him in the side, shedding giggles that bounced about like jingle bells. He gave her a small smile, which she returned, although much more enthusiastic.

"This one must be Sarah." He said with a weak grin. He winked at the little girl, who giggled in reply.

Emily smiled,"Yes this little ball of fire is Sarah, she just turned four last month, didn't you, Sarah?" In response, the girl bobbed her head up and down, grinning, and causing her mahogany curls to bounce.

A quizzical expression came about Kurt's face, and then a burst of realization hit him like a train on the tracks. In his delirium, he had yet to come to the conclusion that he'd woken up in America. Not on a boat. Not in the middle of the ocean. Not cold and wet in a bunk. But in a bed. In a house. On solid ground. In America. Oh my God! He was finally out of that hell-whole of a ship! And yes, he was horribly sick, but hell if he cared in that instance, because he was finally here! Wait..

"How long have I been out? How did I get to the house? How did.. what-.. I-" He was near flailing with confusion and rejoice and his voice cracked from exertion.

"Shh shhh!" started Emily," Calm down! Don't want to get to worked up, Kurtie, now sip your water and we'll explain everything."

Kurt did as he was told, while Finn and Emily explained that the ship had come in around six O' Clock in the evening and the passengers were off by about Seven-thirty. Finn was unable to wake Kurt, so he had carefully picked him up bridle style and met Uncle Fred, Aunt Emily, and Sarah on the dock, who had been anticipating their arrival. When Finn had explained Kurt's illness, Emily was in a frenzy to take care of him immediately. He was brought out to the horse drawn carriage while Finn and Fredric went to retrieve all of their belongings. After which, Fred had gone to the local doctor to find some help, but hadn't yet returned; probably due to all of the sick people coming at once. Kurt and Finn were brought to the house; Kurt hadn't stirred once. They were truly terrified of what that meant, after all he'd been asleep for over twenty-four hours. Currently, it was about Four O' Clock in the morning, and no one, especially Finn, had slept a wink. He said had been too preoccupied, but even as he explained the chain of events, he yawned increasingly often. Kurt felt bad for causing such a mess, but when he mentioned this notion, Emily tsked at him and swatted his hand repremandingly, "You say no such thing. We're family and we love you. That's what family does, and there's nothing you could have done to help, and none of this, _none of this_ is your fault."

Kurt did not know if it was from the fever or not, but his eyes misted over. Emily had always known him too well, she knew he would blame himself for the trouble. She knew it wasn't just the illness for which he was sorry. He attempted to regain his composure, but he was so tired he just settled for looking down and not replying. He glanced up and saw the loving, convincing smile Emily was casting him. It was a silent understanding, and was something he was grateful for. He returned a small, watery smile. The silence was interrupted by another loud yawn from Finn, causing the room to laugh softly.

"Well, how about we all get some rest, boys. It's been a long day." Emily said, as she scooped up Sarah who was pouting and insisting she wasn't sleepy through yawns of her own.

"Goodnight, Aunt Emily" ,the boys chorused. She smiled wearily and shut the door behind her. Finn journeyed over to his own bed after drawing the curtains and blowing out the candles. Although Kurt had merely awoken about a hour ago, he didn't object to a few more hours of rest. He laid his aching head back on the pillow and shut his eyes, only to reopen them a few seconds later when Finn began to speak.

"Kurt? Kurt, please don't scare me like that again. I don't know what I would have done if you.. if you hadn't woken up. Just.. you're all I have here. You're my brother..and I.. I love you."

Kurt was touched. After all they had been through before they were brothers, after all the teasing and quarreling they had done over the years, it was nice to know that Finn really did care about him. Kurt attempted a weak smile and rasped, "I'll do my best, you big goon." Finn chuckled and shook his head, " and for what it's worth, I love you too."

Kurt closed his eyes again and faded off to a feverish sleep.

* * *

**Author's Note: This sickness is one I kind of made up. It's something like a bad case of the flu in terms of severity and some symptoms. Thanks for reading! :) I'll update soon.**


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Blaine and the healer arrived in the town, the sun was already up, and the white people were already milling about, shopping for various fruits and vegetables at the venders, crating around barrels of merchandise, or pulling along their horses. There were more people in the town than usual, not that Blaine came often. In fact, he hadn't been in years. There was tension, although Blaine never could figure out why. Looking around he could see thinly veiled contempt aimed in his direction. He had heard the thoughts of the Englishmen through rumors as a child; how they were 'heathens' and even compared to animals. Why would they dislike his people? They were there first, after all. However, when he asked this question to his mother, many years ago, she had said that some people were greedy and vicious, but some just don't know better. He hadn't understood at the time, and still didn't completely, but he comprehended that they weren't bad people, just people who misunderstood his people. And for that Blaine could sympathize, for they did some awfully strange things. Just looking around he noticed the physical differences between the two cultures. The buildings were solid and structured and very angular all placed in a specific order. He noticed the wooden wall that surrounded all the establishments with a few gates leading out to smaller dirt trails leading to more open areas. The grass was scarce, looking as though it was walked upon often. The few women he noticed were dressed in long dresses with long sleeves, their heads adorned with a head piece of thin, white material. The men wore buttoned shirts, trousers being held up by suspenders, and leather shoes along with gruff expressions and a scrunched brow, often regarding he outsiders with a look of faint disgust.

Blaine couldn't have felt more out of place. He was thankful he'd decided to where his nicer skins. These were made into loose trousers that were tucked into the boots he hardly ever wore. His top half was covered by a thin long sleeved smock that laced up half way down his chest. He wore the necklace that his father had given to him, signifying him as son of the chief, and there by, important. It was a long, beaded string that held a small piece of metal, on which, the likeness of a small bird was painted, along with more beads and a feather of a falcon. It did make him feel a little more secure in his new environment, more likely to push his chin up and walk with purpose. After all, it was a privilege to be asked to do such a task. He was making an impression, and hopefully, a good one.

Finally they arrived at an important looking building and Blaine assumed it to be the correct one, for an older gentleman with facial hair and round features noticed their arrival and scurried down the steps to greet them. He made a mental note to keep his head up and his shoulders squared while talking to the man.

"Oh, thank goodness you have arrived! Thank you so much for coming to help, you don't know how much we need you! We were in over our heads to begin with, but since the ship came in last night there are even more people who need help and our doctor is out of ideas! And usually…" The man went on and on. He talking quickly with a thick accent and Blaine was straining to keep up, but he got the gist of it. The man continued talking as they climbed to few steps and entered the building. Offered seats to Blaine and the Healer, Arido, who gave each other a wary glance before sitting down to listen. The man went on to explain the symptoms of the disease, which Blaine translated for the benefit of Arido. He also said that around fifteen people were in the meeting house on makeshift cots waiting for assistance, along with a few others that were still in their homes not too far away. When the man finally paused, he tilted his head to the side, then it seemed a sudden realization hit him.

"Oh! How rude of me! I haven't even introduced myself! _I'm John Figgsworth_." He said in a suddenly slow and overly pronounced fashion,"_I am the mayor of this town_." He smiled and reached out his hand to Blaine. Blaine paused, not understanding, but then remember that this was how the white people greeted each other. He awkwardly extended his hand, offering and unsure smile."I am Blaine, son of Chief Domarun, and this is Arido, our village Healer." He said, gesturing himself and the latter. Figgsworth shook his hand exuberantly and attempted the same with Arido, who looked confused and slightly alarmed until Blaine sent him an encouraging smile, then he played along as well as he could. The Mayor guided them both out the door through which they entered and brought them to a slightly bigger, simpler building filled with sick people on cots, explaining that these were the people who most acutely needed there attention. As Blaine looked around he knew it would be a long day.

* * *

Kurt awoke a few hours later to a tired looking Emily carrying a bowl of something that smelled delicious. Kurt raised his head to see what it was but immediately decided that was a bad idea due to the throbbing headache that he was unfortunately, or fortunately, getting used to. Emily smiled at him and put the bowl down on the table beside the bed. He noticed it was some of her special stew, he hadn't had it since she and Fred had left, but he definitely remembered it being fantastic. She wordlessly left the room and returned with extra pillows for him. After some unpleasant readjusting, Kurt was able to sit up to eat the stew, not by himself of course. Emily pulled up a stool and held the steaming bowl in her hands, sending spoonfuls to Kurt's lips. Usually something this degrading would disgust Kurt, but at this point, he couldn't bring himself to care. And this was Emily, and they had a special relationship anyways, she probably knew just how much Kurt hated this and was sympathetic. Sympathy, never pity. And that was one of the things Kurt loved about her.

Finn was still asleep, as to be expected, as well as Sarah most likely. Kurt guessed it to be around eleven O' clock, which was way later than the usual wake up time, but yesterday was rough. They allowed themselves this extra sleep. When Kurt had finished eating, Emily had offered to help him get cleaned up; he jumped at the opportunity. Apparently, she had been busy this morning heating up bucket after bucket of hot water to fill up their tub in her and Frederic's bedroom. With a large and awkward amount of help, he climbed into the tub and soaked as long as he could before the water got too cold. He already felt a bit better. After he dried off and changed into clean comfortable clothes, again with awkward assistance. Emily even got him a hand- held mirror and helped him style his hair after his skin had been tended to as well as possible. He had to admit, he felt a lot better. Yes, his muscles still ached and was still pink from the fever, but he looked like a little more like himself. It made him a little less home-sick.

Soon after Kurt was freshened up, there was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" Emily asked with a smile, though she knew who it was.

"Your loving husband!" A voice sing-songed through the door.

"Then come in!" Emily returned playfully with a slight chuckle to her voice. The door opened to reveal a tall, lean man with wavy, auburn hair, a bright smile and twinkly green eyes. He was in his late early thirties, slightly older than his wife. He wore simple work clothes and carried a pipe in his pocket. There was a resemblance between he and Kurt's father, and in a way, he and Kurt. They had the same dimpled chin and wide- set eyes, but the the most noticeable resemblance was the pert, upturned nose that Kurt was told repeatedly as child was adorable. And Kurt would often huff and state that he was _not_ adorable. He was handsome. His mother would always agree with him, and she was always right, so that was that.

"Hey look it's my mini-me!" Fred said, bounding up to Kurt's bed, he was a split second away from ruffling Kurt's hair when his hand was slapped away.

"Uncle Fred you know I love you, but don't touch the hair." Kurt said, holding back a smile. He flashed a smile in Kurt's direction and walked back over to Emily, bending down to give her a chaste kiss. Kurt had to smile at that, they were just as adorable now as they were years ago.

"Sorry about that Kurtie, I just had to do it. It always tore you to pieces when you were younger. Glad to see nothing's changed." He laughed out. Kurt just returned a grudging grin. "Anyhow, the reason I came in wasn't to irritate you, but to firstly welcome you to your new temporary home and to also let you know that the town is sending someone to the house sometime today to help out your sickness."

Kurt had almost forgotten how sick he was, he was so relieved to have arrived and joyous to see his family that he had been distracted. But he still ached, and his head still throbbed, he was probably still running a fever. "Someone? not the normal doctor?" he asked.

"Well, thing about our doctor is that he is.. how can i put this lightly.. a bumbling idiot." Fred said with a slightly annoyed expression.

Emily smacked his arm and said, "He's not an idiot, Fred, he's just..under-qualified." When Sarah was first born, she had come down with some illness due to winter. She was horribly ill and they thought she wasn't going to make it. For Fred, it was hard not to blame the doctor for her suffering. Kurt said nothing, for he had heard through letters about Sarah and assumed that to be the problem, also he was just really glad they were sending someone more reliable.

"You'll be fine, Kurt. You are looking a lot better than yesterday, so maybe that hibernation of yours helped do the trick." Emily smiled. Kurt returned the smile and settled back onto his pillows. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad here after all.

* * *

Blaine and Arido had been observing patients for a few hours now, at first, Arido had been stumped, but after asking about a million questions through Blaine, he figured out what this illness could be. It was a sort of virus that he hadn't seen in decades, he didn't know what caused it, but he vaguely remembered the cure. He ran Blaine back and forth to various spice venders, as well as sending him outside the town wall to pluck and gather ingredients. Once they had figured out the recipe, it wasn't difficult to tend to the ill. They had concocted a serum that was to be ingested, and no, it did not seem pleasant, but he didn't here too many complaints.

They eventually left the meeting house after assuring their return with more medicine and to check up on the patients. One of Mayor Figgsworth''s assistants took them to the other homes to deliver the serum and to let the healer do his magic. They had been to four homes, with a lot of walking in between, and Blaine was getting tired. He saw that the sun was over about half way across the sky, they had been working for a while.

When they reached their final home of the day, they were greeted by a younger man with dark hair, probably eighteen or nineteen, but he was very tall, much taller than Blaine. And he was holding hands with a young child, a little brunette girl that seemed excited for their arrival. Once again, Blaine used the European greeting of shaking hands, though he was getting better at it; he'd had to do it all day.

"Hi, I'm Finn Hudson. My brother is the sick one. This is my cousin, Sarah." When Blaine bent down to shake Sarah's hand, she giggle and hid her blush behind her hair. Blaine couldn't help but smile; she was like a little doll. He introduced himself as well as Arido, and Finn guided them through the house, while Blaine explained that they had the medicine for Finn's brother. Finn stopped.

"So is he going to be alright?" he asked hopefully.

Blaine asked Arido who replied in their native tongue, which Blaine translated, "Arido says it may take a few days, but should cure him. May even be walking by tomorrow." Finn looked relieved, and let out a sigh. He then opened a door that led to a small room with a crackling fireplace. There were two beds, one made and the other inhabited. There were two more adults in this room, a man and a woman, who sat on stools talking to the person in the bed. They looked as though they had just shared a laugh over something. They looked up and rushed over to Blaine and Arido, introducing themselves.

"Hello, I'm Fredric and this is Emily, we are Kurt's aunt and uncle." The man said, extending his hand. Blaine reciprocated the introduction unfocusedly, for his eyes kept straying over to the creature you was lain in the bed. It was a male, probably eighteen, with chestnut colored hair that was styled upon his head. His skin was a creamy, soft looking porcelain, and thin material covered most of his slim elegant frame. His lips were full and a light pink. His cheeks were adorned with a light spread of pink as well. He had a button nose and the bluest eyes that Blaine had ever seen. He only noticed that he had been staring to long when the angelic creature tilted his head slightly to the side, and his mouth twitched up into a soft smile, all the while, his cheeks turning a darker hue.

He then noticed that the people, Fred and Emily had continued speaking, and Blaine snapped out of his reverie, only to notice the brother, Finn, looking at him with squinted eyes and a tight mouth. Blaine shook his head to clear his thought and attempted the most innocent expression he could muster, avoiding eye contact with Finn at all costs. He followed Arido over to the bed and sat down on one of the abandoned stools. The boy was even more striking up close. This was unsettling. When Arido spoke, he tore his mind away from the boy and forced himself to focus on the words, when he had to speak directly to the boy, Kurt as his family had called him, he had to clear his throat, "Arido asks, how long have you been ill?"

At first, Kurt seemed as though he did not hear the question, but he shook his head and blinked back at Blaine, responding, "Almost three days." Oh god, his voice! It was higher than he had expected, it was soft and smooth and breathy and completely suited him. If Blaine didn't see him as some sort of deity before, he definitely did now. It took him a second to register the words, repeating them to the healer. Arido responded with asking for his symptoms, and Kurt told them, again in that voice that was sweet as honey, " Dizziness, aching muscles, head aches, and also I've been sleeping a lot too." Blaine, quietly repeating Kurt's words to the healer and vice-versa. It went on in a similar fashion for the next couple of minutes, questions and answers being tossed back and forth, Blaine was hardly paying attention, he was too busy soaking in the image before him, intriguing him more than he would like to admit. There were moments when Kurt would pause to think, biting his lower lip in concentration, or wringing his hands together subconsciously. But what caught Blaine's attention most was when he would ask a question, Kurt's eyes would lock square onto his, he honestly thought he'd be content with staring into them for the rest of the day, or week, it didn't matter.._ Wait. What are you thinking? What is wrong with you today? _He thought. But this train of thought never lasted long, because the sound of Kurt's voice would jerk him out of his own mind, focusing solely on him.

When Arido had finally poured his medicine into a small bowl, he stirred it for good measure and brought the spoon up to Kurt, just as they had been doing all day with the rest of the patients. Kurt looked skeptical, looking at the woman, Emily, for confirmation, when he received a nod and a smile, he heaved a sigh and accepted the spoonful of the concoction. The second it hit his tongue, he recoiled, holding back a whimper. His eyes shut tight and a pained expression came over his face, but he said nothing. Blaine had seen a similar reaction from all of the other patients, but he hated seeing it coming from Kurt. Before he could stop himself he reached out both his hands, clasping the closest one of Kurt's hands, the left one, in his own. This seemed to distract Kurt from the taste at least, for he jumped slightly at the contact and his eyes flew open to lock with Blaine's. After a moment, he seemed to come to a silent decision, relaxing again and attempting to finish the medicine as gracefully as possible. They both missed the confused reaction of the Hummels and Finn, as well as the thinly hidden smirk of Arido. They didn't matter at the moment. The first thing Blaine noticed was how soft Kurt's hands were, and warm, and there was an undeniable connection. Like the second they touched, it was a little bit easier to breath. He knew that his cheeks were darkening, but at that point he couldn't bring himself to care. He kept his eyes on Kurt, and offered him encouraging smiles, which Kurt would return, if not slightly bashfully.

He heard Arido mumble to him something along the lines of, "Sorry to break up this staring contest, but when need to get back.." Blaine chuckled, his blush further darkening. He was eternally grateful Arido spoke no English.

They stood, Blaine letting go of the boy's hand, immediately feeling colder, but offered him a smile. He noticed the disheartened expression upon the angel's face. He leaned down a bit to say quietly, "Don't worry, you will feel better by tomorrow, but I can come back to check on you soon, if you'd like..?"

Kurt's face subtly lit up, and said, "I would love that. Thank you very much, Blaine." He giggled, his face reddening. And Blaine was trying to decide what he love more; Kurt saying his name, or hearing Kurt laugh. _No, seriously. What is wrong with me? _He and the healer said there goodbyes, assuring them they'd be back to check up on Kurt. Blaine glanced back once more and offered a small wave to the boy, who in return gave a bright smile and a small wave as well.

He and the healer started the journey home in silence, leaving the structured town and straight roads behind them, navigating through barely discernible pathways through the thick forest. Blaine's mind was muddied with conflicting thoughts. What was wrong with him? Maybe it was just a long day, or maybe he was coming down with his own fever causing hallucinations. This was weird. Maybe it was because Kurt appeared so new and different that had intrigued him so, that must be the only explanation. But he'd never felt this way before, he'd never felt that shock that he had when he'd touch Kurt. He'd never felt his heart rate speed up so fast, or felt the need to smile so intensely.

Arido watched Blaine from the corner of his eye. It was somewhat entertaining to see his face go from scrunched up and confused to dopey and love- struck and back again. He held back a snicker. Poor kid, love was tough.

"Prince Blaine, are you okay?" He asked.

Blaine looked at him, seeming to consider his options, and apparently decided to trust him, "Arido, I think I'm going crazy." His forehead was creased, causing him to resemble a lost puppy.

"Love is a crazy thing, child." Arido said with a smirk. He watched as Blaine's thick eyebrows shot up, whilst he tripped over a tree root with a squawk.

"Love! What?I don't- what made you think..?- Pshh, love, what a crazy- .. I-" Blaine kept bumbling through various half-thoughts, while the healer smile sympathetically. He put a withered hand on Blaine's shoulder, stopping his sputtering. Arido would have laughed had Blaine not looked so lost. He looked like he was going to break down, obviously this was a new idea to him. Arido assumed this was a lot to take in. He sat down on a log and beckoned the Prince to sit beside him, which he did, although somewhat skeptically.

"Prince, I know it may not be my place to ask, but.. is there something you would like to talk about?" He said, still fighting off a knowing smirk. One of the bright sides of being old was the wisdom. And more than the wisdom, the condescension. But he reckoned _that_ might not be wise.

Blaine considered this. In truth, he could simply refuse this offer, even cause unseemly consequences for the old man. While age was something to be revered, being a prince had its perks as well. But he was past the point of pride. This encounter really did a number on him. He studied the browned face etched with criss-crossing lines of age, lines of laughter, not scorn. The man's light brown eyes shone with a certain warmth and gave out the impression of kindness. Blaine took a breath.

"What do you do.. when.. everything you thought you knew is suddenly different? When the most simple truths become void? When you want to scream at your head to stop so acting crazy?" His voice cracked on the last word, his words becoming more rapid and crammed together. Arido looked the boy over: his eyes were darting around as if he'd been caught in a crime, his shoulder's haunched with his elbows on his knees, his hands ringing together near violently.

Arido gazed across the scenery, surveying the landscape. He had a thought.

"Prince Blaine." The boy lifted his eyes to trepidatiously peer into the other's. "Do you see that log floating on the stream?"

His eyes found the log the man spoke off and nodded his head, wondering how this had anything to do with the unfortunate conversation they were currently in.

"What do you notice about the log, Prince Blaine?"

The prince looked, still utterly confused from the oddity of this discussion. He noticed the insignificant scrap of wood was slowing treading along the waters surface, staggering and bumping into rocks and roots that obstructed its path. With a closer look he noticed a small lizard perched upon the highest point of the log.

"I see a lizard on it." He said.

"Mmhm. What else?"

Blaine scrunched his eyebrows. He knew this would end in a metaphor (it happened a lot where he came from),but he wasn't sure where this one was going. "Umm.. It keeps bumping into things?"

This seemed to appease the old man; he hummed in the affirmative and said, "And why does it bump into the things in it's way?"

"Because the water is pushing it along? Because it has to keep going even if stones are in its way? If it didn't keep going the stream would clog up and the water would stop flowing." He had a memory of his mother sitting him down on her knee by the creek nearest the village, explaining how the water must keep moving or the plants down river would die. He had been building a dam with flat rocks and red and orange leaves, for he had seen the beavers do it and wanted to try his hand at dam building. When he explained this to his mother, she laughed her twinkling bell laugh and ruffled his curly, bouncy hair and kissed his ruddy cheek. He smiled at the memory. He was snapped back into the present when the old man nudged his shoulder and pointed to the split in the stream.

"Now, when that log is sent to one side of the stream, the lizard will of course have to go along with it." They watched as the log bumbled along to the split and was sent down the left side of the stream. " Now that the lizard is going left, he can't very well go right, can he?"

Blaine confusedly shook his head, he still hadn't reached the point.

"Since he is going left, then he must follow the path that he has been dealt. He will learn to live with whatever is at the end of that stream, even if left was not the side he had expected." He searched the princes eyes, seeing a spark of realization.

"So, I just have to get used to this and it will work out?" The man smiled at the boy's innocence and naivety. His hazel eyes filled his an odd mixture of hope and apprehension, along with fear and a tiny sliver of acceptance.

"I would say it is wise to adapt rather than fight nature, Prince Blaine."

He stood and restarted his journey back to the village as if nothing had ever happened. Blaine remained a few paces behind, thinking; this, whatever this was, was going to take some getting used to.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey Kurt, I think if your eyes get any wider they'll pop right out your head," his uncle chuckled.

The blush that had been burning his cheeks for the last half hour darkened further, if that were even possible. He suddenly wished there weren't so many people in the room. He ducked his head lamely, trying to avoid their gazes. He chanced to peer up through his eyelashes at Finn, who, at best, looked confused. Kurt couldn't help but think that his brother's obliviousness came in handy every once in a while. Sadly, he knew Emily would not be so demure, therefore he was not surprised to hear a cheerful shriek coming from her direction.

" Oh, bless me! That young man was just about as handsome as they come!" There were indignant grunts coming from Finn and Fredric, both talking over the other, exclaiming their dashing good looks, while Emily merely giggled, why not humor them? She hardly paid any attention to the rants; instead, her eyes continuously shifted over to the boy in the bed, a smirk on her face. Fred had been right, his eyes were huge and bright, and he appeared to be attempting to sink as low into the blankets as humanly possible. She tried her best not to get her hopes up for Kurt. She'd seen how hard his life was even before she left for the colonies. She'd seen the other children jeer and exclude him for being a bit different. She'd been there when his mother died, it had torn her apart to leave Burt and he alone. She knew, although little, about this boy named Karofsky and how he'd driven her poor nephew out of school. And while she knew it would be somewhat of an improvement moving to the colonies, there was no guaranty that he would be _happy_. Not really happy. Like the kind of happy she was when Fred had asked her to marry him, or when she found that she was expecting Sarah. He deserved happiness. If anyone in this world deserved happiness, it was Kurt. As she pondered this, she noticed Kurt looking down at his left hand, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a dreamy smile. She could only pray he'd find that happiness, if not from this boy, then another.

"…and plus, I'm tall. _Much_ taller than that Blaine fellow. And everybody knows that being tall makes you instantly attractive," Finn said arrogantly, straightening his shoulders and looking utterly convinced he had just made a valid point.

" Ehh.. I don't think that's how it works, son." Fred laughed jovially, the whole conversation growing sillier by the second. Soon they were all laughing, with the exception of Finn, who was currently sporting a faux pout. Kurt seemed to have relaxed by now, chuckling softly along with the family's antics, attempting to hide a yawn. It felt nice, after so long with have no real reason to laugh. Even the last couple of days had been nothing short of unnerving.

"Aww, now sweetheart, how about you get some more rest. That medicine must be making you drowsy," said Emily, hovering over him and placing the back of her cool hand to his forehead. She was right. He was getting sleepy, though he really wanted to just get up and walk around on his own for a while, but sadly that wasn't going to happen. He agreed, nodding his head.

"Yes darling, that's a good idea, besides I need to show Finn where he and Kurt will be working for the time being." Fredric said, standing up, "Come along Finn, let's let your brother get his rest." He led Finn out the door, gibbering on about the farm work. Obviously Fred was excited about having more hands to help out. He also grabbed Sarah's small hand, leading her to her bed and putting her down for a nap.

Emily took this opportunity to bring up the earlier occurrence.

"So," she started, folding a blanket and putting it at the foot of the bed, "that boy seemed to have taken quite an interest in you." She watched as his cheeks darkened.

_Oh, no_. Leave it to Aunt Emily to be abrupt. Kurt tried his hardest to not let his face show anything and failed miserably. "..I don't know what you mean"

"Oh, Kurt, you know what I mean! He couldn't take his eyes off of you! You are down right crazy if you didn't notice." She said excitedly, hopping on the side of the bed and looking at her nephew earnestly. One of their_ Lady Chats_ was inevitably going to result. Kurt, knowing this, simply rolled his eyes and chuckled, attempting nonchalance.

"Emily, he was just being comforting. It was his job, he doesn't have an interest in me," He said meekly. The boy he'd just met was absolutely beautiful, amazing, and, probably, straight as an arrow. Which was just unfortunate. But Kurt didn't care. He'd come to this land knowing there weren't going to be boys knocking his door down for company. It was a depressing thought, but it was better than the alternative. And if he ever did find someone to love, then it would have to be in secret. And if, someone should happen to come along, it definitely would not be some gorgeous stranger he'd met within the first few days of living here. To think that sort of thing may happen was foolish and idealistic, not to mention he would only be setting himself up for failure. Still.. Emily had a point. What straight man would hold another man's hand in comfort? Or be so completely focused on said man? Or offer to come see them again? Oh my God. He was coming to see him again. _No! Don't get excited by that! _ He shook his head to clear it, and, hearing Emily laugh at him, sent a glare her way.

"Sweetheart, all I'm saying is that he was very interested in your.. well being," She said with a smirk.

Kurt rolled his eyes again, "Emily.." He warned, hiding a small small, "That boy was not interested, okay? He was just compassionate, and caring, and… yes, okay! He was really attractive, but that is just simple observation! People can be attractive and compassionate without being in love with someone. He was just doing his job! And,.. Stop laughing at me!" He giggled out. Emily had her head in her hands, rolling in giggles over Kurt's lame denial. They continuing bickering and laughing in a very nostalgic fashion. Kurt denying everything and Emily poking fun at him. It was down right ridiculous, Kurt had reciprocated that "compassion" as fervently as Blaine had. Emily couldn't help but look forward to Blaine's next visit. She guessed even more than Kurt would.

* * *

Blaine was on another one of his solo adventures again. He had taken a canoe at first light and went up stream for hours, before finally stopping at a large rock that peeked out over the stream. He pull the boat onto the shore and climbed up to the edge of the rock. He sat with his feet dangling down over the edge, a few feet from the water, feeling much like a toddler. He just couldn't take being around the people anymore. If if wasn't his father hounding him, then it was a girl flirting with him, and if not a girl, then Wes begging for answer to why he'd been acting so strange over the past few days. It had been two days since he'd gone to the settlement. Two days since he'd seen Kurt. It was much too long in his opinion. The problem was, he didn't think his father would grant permission to go back to the settlement for no real reason. But he wanted to go, he needed to go. After the past few days of near torturing himself with his thoughts, all he wanted was to see him again. Maybe everything would make sense if he was just with him. Besides, he had promised Kurt he would return soon. And it was dishonorable to break promises, so going to the settlement would be a good thing. His father would probably never notice he was gone.

He decided he would go tomorrow, sneak off when no one would notice his absence. He did it all the time, it wasn't going to be hard at all.

A grin overtook his face, the prospect of seeing that angel again was drastically changing his mood.

* * *

Before the first light, Blaine, with his years of practice, gathered his things silently and crept out of the lean-to. He was suddenly extremely grateful for the endless hours he'd spent with Wes or his father or the other hunters of the tribe sneaking about, waiting for prey, learning to step one foot in front of the other. Once he was far enough away from the village that he could no longer see the huts or any torches, he relaxed his stance. He found himself picking up speed as he took the long, barely distinguishable trail to the colony. Even after days of his conflicting thoughts, he still did not have a grip on what exactly he felt for this ..boy.. from Europe. It made very little sense to him. He had never heard of anyone feeling the way he did about someone of the same sex. It was hard to decipher his emotions, for on the one hand, he did not see anything wrong with it, neither did Arido, from what he observed. He felt a bit ashamed he that he had said nothing to his best friend. He knew that if anyone would not judge him, it would be Wes. But even so, this was apparently unheard of among his people. It made him fear that what he felt was wrong or dirty or evil. This feeling was not a strong one because he felt nothing as pure as Kurt could ever be considered evil. Still, he feared what his father would say if he were ever to find out.

Lost in thought, Blaine made his way to the clearing with its rows and rows of green plant, tobacco, he hypothesized. Behind these rows stood more greenery, but this time it was trees, apple trees, he guessed from a distance, though they were just beginning to bloom. He sneaked along the side of the rows, avoiding the few workers he saw starting up the work day, and up to the small house and around to the front door. Suddenly struck with nerves, Blaine hesitated. _Would he still want to see me? He seemed to enjoy my company from before, but… maybe this wasn't such a good idea. _He took a small step back, heart pounding. He heard a creak, probably coming from within the house and bolted to where he wouldn't be seen along the left side of the cabin wall. He was grateful he did because in the next moment, the door swung open to reveal the boy that had set up permanent residence inside his head for the last few days.

Blaine gawked. He looked amazing. Without the blankets hiding him, Blaine took in the long legs covered with trousers being held up by what Blaine remembered to be called suspenders. He had fairly broad shoulders that Blaine hadn't noticed in their first encounter. His white shirt was rolled up to the elbows revealing the creamy skin over lightly defined muscles. He was taller that Blaine guessed him to be, but he assumed that was because he still seemed very frail when he had seen him last. And since he was facing away, Blaine couldn't seem to take his eyes off his backside. He shook his head and felt rapid heat shoot to his cheeks. Kurt started to walk down the few steps and onto the dirt trail, not seeming to go anywhere important. He looked like he just wanted to get out of the stuffy house for a while.

* * *

With a small smile on his face, Kurt opened the door after telling Emily he was going to explore the village for a while. She said to take his time so he sauntered about. Emily didn't really want to let Kurt exude so much energy so soon after recovery, but she knew he needed the air and space. After all it had been about six weeks since he had a moment to himself. He stuck his hands in his pockets and shuffled down the trail towards the heart of the town. The path was lined with a bit of forest that dappled the sun and kept him cool. At one point he heard a bit of scuffling close to the road. He stopped and listened but the noise did not resume. Chuffing it off to be a squirrel or something, Kurt hummed to himself and made his way to the town. He was enthralled to see all the people here. It seemed to be busy with carriages being dragged about by horses and women chatting to each other. As he leisurely passed by a vendor selling strings and yarns, he doubled back and looked at the stock. His eyes caught on a spool of dark red yarn and he decided to buy it with the few shillings he had in his pocket. After looking through the stalls, he decided to head back.

He took the same path back to the cabin, but upon hearing another scuffling noise he stopped again. This time he waited a moment before continuing. He felt he was being watched. Though this thought was ridiculous, for who here would need to spy on him. He was just another settler minding his own business. After a moment he called, "Hello?" No response, but he could still feel a presence. "Is anyone there?" His heart picked up speed as did his feet. He suddenly wished he'd brought Emily or Finn with him. He couldn't seem to able to get his breathing under control as his mind supply him with every possible scenario this could lead to including ones that had already happened.

_"NO! Let me go!" Kurt screeched, struggling to escape the brute's arms._

_"Aww, the little fairy doesn't like the attention? You'd think you'd be all over the first guy to lay hands on you," Growled Karofsky._

_"No, just leave me alone! Please, I never did anything to you!"_

_"No, but see, you did, princess. You strut around sprinkling your fairy dust all over the place thinking nothing's gonna happen." Karofsky had him pressed up against a wall, his added weight and stature keeping Kurt blockaded with little room to even breathe. _

_"I don't! I mind my business and never bother you! Why are you doing this? Why can't you just leave me alone and deal with your own insecurities-" That's as far as he got before he was muted by Karofsky's mouth upon his. In his shock, his body became rigid as a whole new kind of fear washed over him. Finally, when the brute pulled away, allowing him to breathe again, he could just barely hear the words, " If you tell anyone about this, I'm going to kill you." And with a final shove into the wall Kurt's defense broke down and tears seemed to explode out of him. His heart was beating in his ears and he barely noticed he was on the ground. _

"…urt! Kurt! Kurt!" He heard a some what familiar voice call his name and felt strong arms circling around him. He could hear himself weeping and felt the ground beneath his knees, but his mind wasn't quite with it yet. He buried his face into the chest of this unknown person, clutching to what felt like some sort of animal hide. All at once he realized whom he was grasping onto and stumbled away. He immediately felt remorse for the hurt look on the Indian's face. He hurried back to Blaine, who was still kneeling on the ground. Hurriedly, he grabbed his hands, though his mind reveled over how easy the action was, and tried to console him.

"Prince Blaine, I'm so sorry. You just frightened me.."

The prince replied with a small, guilty smile, "I apologise deeply for scaring you. I did not mean to, but I did not know how to approach you. It was cowardly of me." He looked ashamed.

"Wait, so it was you who was following me?" Kurt let out a relieved laugh that Blaine had to smile at, "Thank God it was you and not some one else!"

"Does that mean you are happy to see me?" Blaine asked before he could stop himself. Immediately his bush returned.

"I guess you could say that," Kurt returned quietly, not quite meeting his eye. Blaine's heart soared. He felt like someone set off a cannon right next to him. The warmth Kurt's words provide jolted through him and couldn't hold back a huge, stupid grin. He suddenly remembered what brought him to Kurt's side as he took in the tear tracks running down his soft face. With a great deal of effort, he raised one hand and brushed away the tears with his thumb. Kurt looked up quickly, looking startled but not giving any indication of discomfort, so Blaine repeated the action to the other side of his face. When he was satisfied, he looked into Kurt's cerulean eyes with his hands still holding onto his face and let himself be lost for a moment.

Kurt thought he might burst into another bout of tears at the sweet, simple attention Blaine gave to the tear tracks. No one had done anything like this in years, maybe since his mother had died, back when he came to her crying about a scuffed knee. He could attribute this to the fact that he out right refused to show any weakness outwardly in quite some time. He'd learned from experience that showing weakness was the fastest way to get eaten alive. But now he didn't mind it so much. Not with the kind, caring expression upon Blaine's face that seemed to be spilling over with unbridled honesty. Whatever denial he had about Blaine's intentions were being dulled by the second. Blaine, upon realizing he'd been staring for arguably way too long, coughed awkwardly and broke eye contact. Kurt laughed softly, and when Blaine looked back to him he was wiping the rest of the tears off of his face. "What a second impression, huh?" he laughed again. "I'm so sorry you had to see me like that." Back in his element, without Blaine's warm, buttery eyes piercing into him in the best way, he regained the 'there's nothing wrong so don't feel bad for me' mask, though it wasn't as harsh as usual.

But Blaine, much less cavalier about Kurt's break, down asked, "Kurt, can I ask why you were so upset?" Kurt was touched that Blaine seemed to care so much, but this wasn't something he wanted to relive twice in one day. Besides, he didn't really know Blaine. It sort of felt like he did because everything seemed so easy around him, but they were not much more than strangers. Hell, even Finn and Carol didn't even know the whole Karofsky story.

"I'd rather not go into it, if that's okay, Prince Blaine. You just reminded me of something I don't like to think about anymore." Kurt said, again, trying to avoid his gaze.

Blaine attempted to stave off his curiosity, only nodding quickly in the affirmative. Kurt never had to tell him anything, just as long as he would never react to Blaine that way. Ugh, Blaine was so stupid. Why didn't he just knock on the damn door? Then he wouldn't have put this beautiful creature through so much pain. He bowed his head in remorse saying, "I am so sorry for hurting you Kurt, if you wish I will leave you be and go on my wa-"

"No!" Blaine's eyes widened, "I mean, shit. Sorry, I just-.. It's not you, I promise. I mean.. I-I don't want you to go.." Kurt trailed off awkwardly. Blaine's smile probably looked ridiculous, and his cheeks were kind of starting to hurt but he could't help it. His knees also were kind of starting to hurt from being on the ground for so long so he stood, pulling Kurt along with him. They started walking along the trail to the house again. They weren't speaking, but they were standing a bit closer than most other.. friends? acquaintances? would stand. Blaine started a bit when he felt Kurt's soft hand bump lightly into his. He looked at the pale beauty, who was not looking back but did look a bit nervous, and, as nonchalantly as possible, slipped his rough, dark hand into Kurt's milky, smooth one. Kurt looked over in surprise and delight, but this time, it was Blaine who was not looking back, though the corners of his mouth were twitching up into a badly hidden smile. Their fingers laced together as if they were made to do so. Blaine felt the sensations he felt when he first held Kurt's hand. Like all of the sudden he was able to take in twice as much oxygen as usual. It made him feel a bit light headed, but he welcomed the feeling. In this silence, he noticed all his conflicting feelings about Kurt didn't come up when he was actually in his presence. These feelings just felt right, whether he was able to justify them or not.

Sadly, the small, familiar house came into view. Blaine walked all the way up to the door with Kurt and stopped, not wanting to let go. One look at Kurt's face told him that he was feeling the same thing. "I want to apologise again for my behavior, Kurt."

Kurt almost shivered as he listened to Blaine say his name. He noticed Blaine always put a little more emphasis on the "R" than he was used to and there was a sharp inflection in the "T". He liked it. "Blaine, really, it's okay. In fact, if I may be so bold, I am very glad you c-came to see me today," Kurt stammered, once again looking down. The adorable stutter was enough to distract Blaine, but paired with the crimson high on his cheeks, he could only describe the boy as precious.

"Not a problem at all. I felt it only honorable to uphold a promise," Blaine responded automatically. He guessed it was only apt. "When my mother used to tell tails of princes and knights when I was young, they always did the honorable thing. She called it Chiv-..Chiva-"

"Chivalry." Kurt finished for him. "You have been nothing but chivalrous, Blaine. You know, your mother seems like a lovely woman."

"She was."

"Was?"

"Yes, she died many moons ago. The cold got to her." He didn't know why he was telling Kurt all of these things. They were just spilling out of his mouth like a waterfall.

"Oh, Prince Blaine, I'm so sorry," he felt Kurt squeeze his hand, "My mother died as well, when I was eight. She would also tell me stories of the noble knights that would go on large quests to impress the woman he loved. If only it were still like that. Men doing good things for personal gain rather than tearing down everyone else's happiness to lift themselves up.." Blaine was watching his face. It seemed that he was drifting away from attention, into some sad memory. With little other inspiration, Blaine removed his hand from Kurt's and pulled him into a light hug.

Kurt, after snapping back into reality, and with a beat of hesitation, returned it with fervor. Why was it that this man continued to make him feel like a vulnerable child? And why did he not have more of a problem with that? For so long, if anyone were to try to comfort him he would push them as far away as possible with endless strings of sharp wit. He didn't need anyone. He needed his father, but that was it. No one else understood him, and anyone acting like they did struck Kurt as sinister. All they could offer was pity, and Kurt would rather face every bit of oppression alone than use pity as a crutch. Yet.. this.. this stranger, for all intents and purposes, had put him his weakest position twice in the span of, what? Like, half- an- hour? This was terrifying, but for some reason, he didn't want it to end.

Blaine just held on for dear life. He didn't know what sort of things had happened to this beautiful creature. He took in the pale skin, so much lighter than his own, even lighter than most of the other villager's from what he'd seen. It gave the impression that he was made of…moonlight. It sounded silly even to him, but that's all his mind could provide. And his hair was lighter than his own, with tints of golds and reds that were amplified in the soft sunlight billowing over

them. When Kurt looked into his eyes water came to mind. Like the kind of water that trickles down rocks and into streams casting their musical chimes into the surrounding world. Or the sky, when it was a clear day in the spring or summer. When he looked at this man, he saw him as some sort of exotic angel. That couldn't be hurt because anything thrown at him would fly right through to the other side and he'd never blink an eye. But someone had hurt him. Someone had caste a dark shadow on this epitome of perfection. The thought alone enraged Blaine, but there was nothing he could do now. Nothing but keep holding on for as long as he could.

After what seemed like an hour but was probably just a few minutes, Kurt pulled away slightly, enough so that he could look his opposite in the eyes. Something was happening here. Kurt didn't know what it was, and he didn't want to get his hopes up, but there was not way in hell this was platonic. Or at least probably not. Right? _Damnit, shut up Brain!_ His eyes darted down to Blaine's lips briefly before he could catch himself, but when he looked back up, he noticed Blaine was doing the exact same thing. _Oh, well maybe I'm right.. _He thought briefly with an uncontrollable smirk.

Blaine's heart was beating out of his chest. He honestly thought Kurt would comment on how the incessant thumping was hurting his ears. Before he had much time to think about it, he was leaning in. Time seemed to stop. In the back of his mind he vaguely heard the voice telling him that this was wrong. It was wrong to feel this way about another boy. It was wrong to keep this from his father and best friend. That it was wrong to even come here in the first place. But the voice drowned out by the sound of his heart beating and his breath picking up. They were inches apart, then centimeters. His eyes drifted closed..

Slam!

They both jumped back as if they had been burned, their eyes shooting to the front door and the blonde woman that regarded them with eyebrows high on her forehead, trying her best not to grin.

Kurt thought he could ring her neck, but he was a little lightheaded due to the fact he'd been subconsciously holding his breath. "Aunt Emily! Y-you remember the Prince? Prince B-Blaine? He was just coming back t-to check on me, like he said he would. I'm doing much better, right Emily? I've walking around fine and don't feel tired at all!" Okay, maybe Kurt was freaking out teeny bit. He was ringing his hands together to cover up how much he was shaking. his voice was cracking a bit and he was still trying to catch up on appropriate air intake. He wouldn't look at Blaine, but he hoped he was handling this better than him.

"Yes, Prince Blaine. He is doing very well, as you can see." She had to cover her mouth to hide her giggles. On the one hand, she felt horrible for interrupting what was obviously a moment, but honestly she was just happy this whole thing with Blaine actually was requited. She didn't want to see Kurt hurt again. But it was obvious there was something going on between the two that maybe even _they_ weren't sure of yet. She looked at Blaine, and choked a bit on a laugh. His eyes were about as wide as they could go. His shoulders thrown back and body rigid. The poor thing looked like he was in shock. "Prince Blaine?"

He let out a nervous choking noise that was trying to be a laugh, saying, "Yes. Yes, he does seem to be recovering just fine." Now he didn't know where to put his hands. Oh gods, what could Kurt possibly see in him? He looked to the boy in question, who seemed just as uncomfortable, but when he caught his eye, that tension returned. Like Emily and the rest of the world wasn't there at all. His look calmed him and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Unfortunately, Emily was still there and cleared her throat. Their eyes shot to her again.

"Prince Blaine, you are more than welcome to stay for dinner, if you wish," Emily offered.

"Dinner?" He looked up to the sky and felt a surge of panic. It was much later than he had realized. "Um, that it exceedingly kind of you, but I'm afraid I am expected back at the compound," With an apologetic smile he looked over to Kurt, who looked a bit morose to hear, looking downward and biting his lip. Blaine hated to be the one to disappoint him, but he was pushing his luck with his father and he knew it. He vaguely heard Emily say something in understanding and shut the door behind her. Blaine walked the few feet back over to Kurt and took his hands in his.

"I apologise for leaving so suddenly, Kurt."

"No it's okay," Kurt replied, shaking his head," I understand. I wouldn't want you getting in trouble because of me.."

Kurt still wasn't quite meeting his eyes. So, after some internal deliberation, he ducked his head and put his knuckle under the boys chin, forcing him to look him in the eyes. Then very carefully he leaned closer to him and whispered, "It's no trouble at all," before planting a feather- light kiss on Kurt's right cheek. He could hear Kurt's quick inhale at the feeling, and the heat he felt under is lips made him linger. When he pulled away, reopening his eyes, he was nearly knocked breathless by the look on the boy's face. His eyes were wide and a bit shinier than usual. The rouge that was present so frequently on the boy's cheeks was back in full force, and his pink lips were open slightly in a disbelieving smile. He promised to himself right then that he would do anything in his power to make that look happen all the time.

"Now I really must go, but I can come back soon, if you wish..?"

Kurt really couldn't get his voice to work if he tried, so he just nodded fervently and tried not to look like too much of an idiot. With a final blinding, charming smile Blaine bowed his head gracefully, released his hands after a final squeeze, and disappeared around the side of the house.

Kurt was frozen to the spot. After a few moments, he let out a loud laugh that turned into slightly hysterical giggle that accompanied a little happy dance, flailing arms and all. Finally, he realized that anyone who happened to pass by would think he was off his rocker, so he quickly walked through the front door, shut it and promptly slid down until he hit the floor. His ridiculously excited mind was still exploding rainbows by the time Emily found him and burst out laughing. He decided he just did not care and laughed with her. He couldn't even pretend to be mad right now, even if she did interrupt them. He allowed her to help him to his feet, still blushing profusely, trying to gush as little as possible about the encounter while helping Emily with preparing dinner.


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, wow I suck at updating! I have excuses! Writers-block, musicals, and Graduation being among them. Anyway, I'll totally be doing better about updating :) This chapter's short, but I'm about to upload another one very shortly. And to anyone following, I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart. This is my first attempt at writing a fictional story of this magnitude and for anyone to actually like it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. **

**Love and Butterfly kisses, **

* * *

Blaine was genuinely concerned that he may just drop dead on the spot. How the hell did he manage to stay so calm? This was ridiculous. AHHHH! _Okay, calm, calm_. He knew he had to get back soon so he picked up speed, running and hurdling through the path with a huge grin on his face and laughing aloud from time to time. He was so preoccupied with his internal dialogue cheering him on, that he didn't see the obstacle in time to slow down.

"HUH!" He tumbled to the ground with a squeak, eventually slowing to a halt and looking skyward.

"Blaine, what the hell, man?!" He looked over to see what, or rather whom, he ran into so gracefully. Wes was sitting on the ground rubbing his ribs ruefully. His disgruntled comrad seemed less than excited to see his friend, even if he had been looking for him to start with.

"Wes? Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you!" The boy popped up like a gopher, apparently impervious to a head on collision with a full grown man who was at least four inches taller than himsef. "I just got distracted an-"

"Decided to run me over?" Wes grunted, climbing to his feet, "Yeah I could see that, idiot. Where have you been?" Blaine thought he may as well tell him now. Just get it over with.

"Well, actually I wanted to talk to you about that. Um.. okay, so you know how I had to go with the Healer to the British colony a few days ago?" His stomach was growing tight with nerves.

"Yeah, of course, the Chief's been bragging about you to all the compound for days."

"Yeah, so while I was there I.." Blaine mumbled something.

"What was that?" Wes pried, though he had already assumed the response.

"Ikindofmetsomeone." He said quickly, keeping his eyes on the trail as an excuse to not look Wes in the eye.

"Wow," He breathed out. "That's fantastic, Blaine. You finally found someone. I mean, your father probably couldn't get too upset considering that's kind of how he met your mother.. but then again, to have the next heir of the tribe be three-quarter white.." Wes looked at Blaine, who wasn't responding. In fact, he looked really nervous. "Blaine.. do you need to tell me something?" It wasn't really his place to pry, but he knew Blaine wouldn't be upset with him if he did.

Blaine mumbled something else, still looking everywhere but his friend.

Wes thought he knew what was coming. That the suspicions that he'd been having for quite sometime might be true. He didn't know what would happen in the long run if they were. All he could promise himself right now was to be there for Blaine, regardless of what everyone else said or did.

"It.. It's not.. What I mean to s-say is. It's a…a g-guy." His head was lower than ever now. Wes thought he may have seen a tear escape from his eye.

"Blaine," Wes said in a demanding, yet not unkind tone, and Blaine's eyes snapped up to him. "Blaine, that's okay too. I promise. I'm not going to desert you just because you are not what everyone else wants you to be." His hands were latched onto Blaine's shoulders, forcing him to stay facing him. He saw it coming before it started, but even still he was a bit startled when Blaine's face crumpled, tears filling his eyes, and he pushed his way into a sudden hug that caused Wes to let out an 'oof'. Soon the prince was just weeping into the taller indians shoulder. It seemed that this was bothering him a lot more than he'd been letting on. Wes just stayed statuesque, letting his friend let go in relief.

Blaine knew he'd regret this little weepathon later, but for right now he was just grateful that even if no one else ever understood or accepted him, he'd still have someone, someone he cared a great deal about, to be their for him. Whenever he thought about his father finding out about this, his stomach seemed to drop. He just stood and cried, cried for what felt like a long time, but it was a lot of stress being released all at once, so he didn't rush it. The emotional turmoil from this day would take years off of his life, he was sure. Eventually his weeping turned into hiccupy laughter and he subtly pulled away, wiping his eyes feeling exhausted. Wes just smiled faintly and gave his shoulder another squeeze, motioning him to continue down the path to the compound.

"So now that that little episode is over and done with," He nudged Blaine in the side, causing a chuckle to erupt from him, "Do you want to tell me about this lucky fella?" Blaine got a dreamy, dumbstruck look on his face, that caused a laugh from Wes, but answered none the less.

"Oh my gods, Wes, Kurt's amazing. He's lean and pale and has light brown hair and these eyes. Wes. His _eyes. _They are so blue that I kind of can't even describe them. And his voice is a bit higher than you'd expect and he giggles sometimes. I would pay to listen to him laugh I swear. And he has this smile, and h-his hands and he's a few inches taller than me, and you'd think I wouldn't like it, but I _do_. And he's so sweet and polite and- and.. He's just perfect, Wesley." Blaine was running out of breath by the end of his mindless babble. Wes was jeering at him playfully, but this much was to be expected.

"Well, well, it sounds like you've found the one for you, Blainers." Wes smiled one to his friend, cuffing him on the shoulder.

Blaine blushed, trying to hide his smile, but eventually giving up because he felt so liberated and thrilled with the happenings of the day. They spent then remainder of the walk home chatting about what happened with he and Kurt, Wes all the while teasing Blaine over his gentlemanly nature. By the time they reached home, Blaine's cheeks hurt from smiling so much and he realized he'd laughed more today than he had in a long time.

* * *

Kurt's been acting weird. Ever since yesterday he's been really happy. But like, Finn doesn't even know why. Last night, he came into their room humming some song with a weird smile on his face. He watched in confusion as his brother picked up a mirror and kept touching his cheek. Sure, Kurt's always been a bit obsessed with his skin, but this was weird, even for Kurt. At dinner the night before, he looked like his cheeks were all red and stuff. Finn was sort of worried that he wasn't totally better from being sick, but he didn't look like he was in pain like before. Just sort of embarrassed. And Aunt Emily, who Finn had come to accept as family even though he wasn't really related to her at all, kept giving Kurt these looks. Like "Ha ha, I know things you don't want me to know, but I do so I win" sort of looks and Kurt would barely look anyone in the eye. Usually Finn would never notice these kind of details. He knew he was usually the oblivious one, as Burt would often joke about, but since he's the big brother here (Even if he wasn't older, he was still a head taller) he felt he needed to watch out for Kurt. He really had been on edge ever since the boat ride, and if something was up, then he was going to be there to fix it.

So, since today would be the first day for Kurt to work with him outside, he figured he and Kurt could have a.. a little chat. No not chat. Cause then Finn thought of Kurt dragging him into a lady chat, and that was _not_ what this was. More like a manly talk, for men. Where men got to talk about macho manly things mano y mano. Yeah. Finn could live with that.

"Okay so, Kurt, Uncle Fred said we are supposed to work mostly in the tobacco fields. Since it's still early in the year, he wants us to help plant the seeds. He showed me how to do it the other day, so here I'll show you."

Now Kurt, while eternally grateful for the the room and board, was not excited to work in agriculture. It had never been his calling. Finn seemed okay with the notion, but he and Finn obviously did not share the same interests. Kurt dreaded being outside for hours on end where he'd get all sweaty and hot and his skin would burn or speckle out into multitudes of freckles so that he ended up looking like an Easter egg. Ugh, this was going to be a rough transition. Finn led him to a row that seemed unperturbed and had no workers already working on it. Finn then dug his hand into the sack that he'd tied onto his waist, pulling out a couple of seeds.

"Here, all you have to do is dig a few inches down, push the seeds in and cover them back up with a bit of dirt. It's supposed to rain either today or tomorrow, so we don't have to water them right now." When Finn got back to his feet, Kurt noticed how his fingers were all dirty with the black, wet soil and his eyes widened in panic as he looked to his own hands. Oh dear God, he would _never_ get all of this dirt out from underneath his nails. And even if he did, he'd just have to tromp right back out here and dirty them up all over again the next day. This was going to lengthen his nightly routine extensively. With a pained expression, Kurt grabbed some seeds out of his bag and did as Finn had shown him. After a few more done in the same fashion, he heard Finn clear his throat.

"Soooo," his brother began 'nonchalantly'. He quirked an eyebrow. "How ya been, buddy?"

"Uhh.. fine, I guess."

"That's cool. Nothing bothering you? Nothing on your mind? Nothing I should… know about." Kurt looked confusedly at Finn, who was sporting a weirdly uncomfortable face that was still posing as nonchalant.

"That you should know about? What are you, my father?" He deflected with a chuckle. He was kind of kicking himself because he was obviously not hiding his infatuation if Finn, the boy with all the observational skills of a two- by- four, had noticed.

"Well, you know. Burt did send me to take care of you-"

"I can take care of myself, Finn." Kurt didn't mean to snap, but Finn was treading near dangerous territory. The boy's face looked taken aback and apologetic. "I'm sorry for that, Finn. But you really don't need to worry. I'm fine." He hoped that the giant might leave it at that, but when did Finn ever do what Kurt wanted?

"Are you sure? I mean, I'll beat the hell out of anyone who gives you a hard time. You know? I don't want anything like what happened with that arse Karof-"

"Finn, please. I really don't want to think about that."

"Sorry, it's just. I did a shit job of helping you out last time. And before you say anything," affectingly cutting off an agitated response," It's not about you, like, needing protection, or whatever. It's about me not being the kind of man my father wanted me to be, you know? The kind of man Burt is. Someone who thinks about family and people he loves and stuff instead of what's easy for himself."

Kurt had never really thought of it that way. He always assumed that Finn thought of him as a dainty porcelain figure that wasn't man enough to take care of himself, so he had to step in and save the day. He'd never given thought to the notion that Finn might actually want more for him than to act as his rescuer or yet another dispenser of pity. That maybe Finn was trying to make up for all the times when he thought of his reputation, the strapping young man who was jumping back and forth between lovely ladies all the time, before Kurt. Though at the time, they had been nothing but class-mates, but Finn, along with everyone else for the most part, had let the teasing and shoving and mimicking go on and on. Still, maybe this was redemption. Not just for himself, but in Kurt's eyes as well.

"Finn, I.. I don't know what to say to that," Kurt replied honestly after a few moments.

"You don't have to say anything, Kurt. Just.. If you ever do need my help, for anything. I would be.. more than happy to give it, " Finn finished a bit awkwardly. Kurt couldn't help but smile a bit at this. Even though he and Finn had been brothers for a while now, this was the first time he realized how he had an ally in Finn. They continued on down the row chatting amiably until lunch and then started up again until three rows were done around three in the afternoon. They clomped inside where Kurt excused himself with a bucket if water saying he had to "scrub the small mountain" off of his hands. Finn just rolled his eyes and plopped down into a rocking chair with a grin, celebrating the victory of finally having a heart-to-heart with his brother that didn't end with the mask that Kurt has used so often. Maybe he's better at this whole brother thing than he thought.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day found Kurt and Finn running errands for Frederic. They were told that today they were to deliver some mail to the post office and bring in the outgoing shipment to the docks. Kurt was absolutely thrilled with the prospect of getting out of field work for a day. He'd much rather get behind the reigns of a horse and drive it into town instead. He was even okay with some heavy lifting, at least when compared to the alternative.

"So, Kurt, just take the cart straight to the docks. You know where they are, right?"

"Yes, Uncle. I made sure to find them last time I went to town."

"Good. Look for a man named Jenkins. He's the one who I always work with." Kurt nodded and jumped in the drivers seat. Finn squawked indignantly and stomped his foot like a petulant child, while a slightly vindictive laugh burst of Kurt. When Finn started to whine about sitting in the passenger side, Fred cleared his throat with a pointed look, prompting a haughty look from Kurt and a slightly pouty one from Finn. Nevertheless, they got a move on towards the town while Finn grumbled idly for a few minutes before he dropped the matter altogether. Kurt smirked. This was why he always won arguments. Finn just didn't sport a pout well and didn't seem to have a large enough attention span to stay mad for long.

They finally reached the docks where their ship had come into port. Finn hopped out and tied to horses to the post. Kurt got out and asked around for Jenkins, being pointed in the right direction and shaking hands with the fellow when he found him. He told Kurt where he and Finn were to drop off the merchandise. Kurt nodded curtly and dragged his brother over to help him. All was going smoothly, Finn was totally over the Driving debacle (which Kurt knew he would be) and was joking around. Kurt was laughing at something Finn just said, holding one off the large sacks in his hands when he abruptly dropped the thing, causing it to spill and half the greenery burst out of it.

"Kurt, what the Hell? What happened?" Finn raved, picking up the bag, keeping any more from spilling out.

Kurt didn't answer.

Finn finally looked to the boy's face and recoiled a bit from his expression. Kurt was looking towards the middle of town with eyes wide and brow crinkled in distress, mouth dropped slightly open. He seemed not to have moved since the bag spliced from his fingers, still a bit hunched over. If Finn looked close enough he would see Kurt's framed was shaking slightly. Finn quickly whipped his neck around to see what had startled the boy so. He squinted, eyes darting around trying to pinpoint anything out of the norm. He saw nothing. Nothing but the same type of people doing the same provincial activities they would always do. Nothing that would merit this reaction, surely. He turned back to Kurt who had noticed the mess he made, trying to scoop up handfuls and put it back in the bag. He still looked shaken and unfocused, making mistakes like his body wasn't responding correctly. Like his hands weren't moving fast enough to keep up with his brain. Breathing unsteadily, he wiped his brow with the back of his hand and avoided eye contact at all costs.

"Kurt?" Ignored. "Kurt." The boy took a few steadying breaths, his mouth twitching into an awkward smile that had no chance of meeting his eyes, and looked at his brother as if nothing were wrong at all.

"Yes, Finn? I'm so sorry I, uh.. I g-guess my hands slipped, silly me," His eyes were somewhere else entirely. It kinda felt like Kurt was looking into his own head, remembering things. Finn was concerned. Big time.

"Kurt what happened? We both know you didn't slip. You saw something. What?" Finn nearly demanded.

"Finn, I'm fine. I didn't see anything," _At least I hope not. _After all he'd been through, Kurt could scarcely imagine something like this happening.

He darted to the driver's bench and picked up and empty sack that he'd idly noticed on the way here. It was older and faded, but it would work well enough. He skittered back to the broken bag and spilled tobacco, putting the broken bag, leaf and all, into the new one. He thought if his hands were busy he could stop thinking about it.

Ugh, his eyes were watering. He's scrubbed them as least obviously as he could. It wasn't fair. He'd tried so _hard_. His family had tried so hard. For him. All for him. Their whole lives changed abruptly and now it was all for naught. _No_, Kurt thought, _I was just imagining it. There's no way he could be here. _He chanced to let his eyes drift up to where he'd 'seen' him. He saw nothing noteworthy. Probably this was.. homesickness or fever. He could very well be still recovering from that horrid illness. Yes.. his illness… the one Blaine cured him of. He had a sudden urge to see Blaine, but who knew when he'd come back. He just needed someone to calm him, and he noticed that Blaine did that without trying. He prayed that Blaine would be in today. _Please let Blaine come over today. Please.. _

Finn still looked dubiously at Kurt, but knew he had no chance of getting Kurt to open up. Especially right now. He'd try later for sure, but right know Kurt just seemed to be working as fast as he could to unload the rest of the sacks onto the dock. When they'd finished, Kurt silently climbed into the passenger seat. A peace offering. Maybe Finn would take it as a sign to not bring it up again.

When Finn walked around to the front of the cart, he saw his brother in the passenger side looking smaller and more pale than usual, even for Kurt. He got in silently as well and snapped the reigns, driving the horses to their other stop: the Post office. Finn figured he'd just go deliver these himself since it was only envelopes, but Kurt slinked out of his seat and followed him inside the small building. Finn strolled to the boy at the small desk and gave him the stack and thanked him. As Finn turned around to exit, he nearly bumped into Kurt, who was standing much closer than he'd thought. His arms were wrapped about himself and his head was slightly bowed. He avoided being stepped on by the gentle giant, his eyes flickering up in a bashful apology. Finn hesitantly pull a firm hand on his shoulder as they walked to the cart. He felt Kurt stiffen a bit, but he didn't snap at him or pull his shoulder away. With a final squeeze, Finn let go to enter the driver's seat, proceeding to drive away from the town, much to Kurt's appreciation.

They drove on tensely for the whole ride. When the horses pulled them over the spot Blaine had found him the day before, Kurt felt another painful twinge. How was it that someone who was supposed to be thousands of miles away could still be terrorizing him? Hadn't he ruined enough? Kurt was so naive to think he could possibly be happy here. Like everything he had ever been taunted for would be accepted with open arms. Even if what he'd seen today really was just a figment of imagination, where would he be then? Still chased into isolation for being gay, that's what. He would never be allowed to be happy because his happiness was an offense to good, wholesome, God-fearing people. It was an excuse to throw him in the dirt and spit at him. It was an excuse to use him for one's own twisted pleasur-

The cart stopped at the house slightly abrupt. Finn looked bait sheepish of his driving skills, but Kurt didn't care. He jumped out on to the ground and turned back to Finn.

"Can you tell Emily that I'm just going to take a walk, and that I'll be back before dinner?"

He didn't really wait for a response before he trailed off down the smaller dirt road going opposite the town. He was already many paces away before he heard a confused reply in the affirmative. He walked quickly, like he had an agenda, but he didn't really know what he was doing out this direction. There wasn't really anything to do or see here because the trail eventually dissolved into thick forest. Kurt assumed it lead to the Indian compound. Where Blaine lived.

Was this why he was out here? To find Blaine? That was ridiculous. Not only was it almost impossible to find him through all of these woods, but what would his reason be? Blaine, as much he hated to admit it but continued to remind himself, was a stranger. They'd met about a week ago and had had one conversation alone. Blaine should not be a priority,..yet.. here he was at the end of the distinguishable trail staring into a deep forest full of things he probably could never imagine.

He took a step forward. He looked back over his shoulder and saw no one. No one would know he went out here alone if he came back at a reasonable time, right? _What? Kurt, turn the hell around. You are going to get yourself killed_. His voice of reason was completely correct, Kurt wouldn't last out here if he got lost. And if the indians got him; he didn't know if the rest of Blaine's tribe were docile like him. Kurt hesitated. He didn't know why, but he needed to go in. It felt as if his calf muscles were pushing him forward. He felt so compelled that he slowly started forward. As high as his emotions were running today, he ignored all sense of reason. Throwing caution to the wind as he thought dejectedly of how caution had helped him so far.

He trudged down the initial hill into the shaded, damp forrest. There were bugs buzzing and birds chirping and crystal-like droplets of rain that lingered from yesterday's shower dripping and sliding down the deep green leaves. He kept taking big breaths that seemed to slow down his previously frantic heartbeat. The air smelled like water and black earth. Here and there the sun would burt through the leaves that canopied the haven, shooting to the ground, dappling the greens with bright yellows and leaving a shaft of sunlight visible through the moisture-thick air.

Suddenly a hard stick broke beneath his feet making a loud echo throughout the woods. He stilled momentarily, gaining his bearings. He took another view steps forward to the edge of a stepper hill. Man, this was going to be a bitch to climb back up. He side-stepped down the decline, holding on to thin trees and branches for balance, until he put too much weight onto an above ground root, snapping it. His leg, followed by the rest of him, slid down causing him to tumble and roll down the hillside until he reached more level earth. A bit disoriented and stinging from cuts and scrape and bruises, he pushed himself onto his back, and closed his eyes, trying to stop the dizzy feeling coming over him.

His ears perked up where he heard footsteps. Decidedly quick and decidedly human and decidedly coming straight at him. His eyes snapped open just in time to see an indian barrel toward his body screeching, "Hyaah!", and perch over him holding a wide knife-type-thing to Kurt's throat, speaking quickly and angrily at him in another language.

Kurt's eyes were wide as saucers, "I'm sorry! I don't' mean any harm! Please don't hurt me! Oh, god. Please don't hurt me." He ended with a whimper. The indian just kept speaking punchily at him with a scowl, holding the knife close while keeping him pinned to the ground.

The boy remained in place, so as to not upset the indian into thinking he was a threat. Kurt deduced that if he cooperated, the maybe the man would just drag him back to the camp, where Blaine could defend him, or so he hoped.

The indian suddenly stopped shouting gibberish and looked at Kurt like he was studying him.

_"…Kurt's amazing. He's lean and pale and has light brown hair and these eyes. Wes. His eyes. They are so blue that I kind of can't even describe them. And his voice is a bit higher than you'd expect and he giggles sometimes. I would pay to listen to him laugh I swear. And he has this smile, and h-his hands and he's a few inches taller than me, and you'd think I wouldn't like it, but I do…"_

"Kurt." The native said suddenly. His eyebrows high and surprised.

The boy in question looked just as shocked. _How..wait. What. I don't even. What?!_

"...Yes. Yes I'm Kurt." He stated shakily. The indian then looked kinda like how Finn would look if he just accidentally broke something expensive. He sprung off and slightly away from Kurt. "Kurt?" He said again, questioningly.

Kurt realized this man probably didn't know more than a hand full of English words, so Kurt reply with a definite nod in the affirmative, " Yes. Kurt" He gestured with his hands pointing at his chest.

The man still seemed surprised to see him, though Kurt still had no idea why, but gave him a smile now. A kind of goofy smile that Kurt giggled a bit at. The man pointed to himself as Kurt had and stated, "Wes."

"Wes?"

The man nodded with another smile. Now that Kurt was fairly certain the indian- Wes- wouldn't lead to his eminent demise, he finally got a good look him. His hair was short except one long braid that was intertwined with beads and had an white and brown feather at the end that came to his shoulder. HIs eyes were dark, as was his skin. He had the kind of face that you could imagine having jovial conversations with. He was clothed in what Kurt might call small cloths that came down about mid thigh with an extra loose layer on the outside just as long. He didn't have on a shirt, and Kurt kind of didn't blame him. He himself was a bit sweaty and he was even running around the woods like Wes probably had been. He also didn't have shoes, which was impressive how bad Kurt's feet would look if he tried walking around barefoot in the forest.

"How.. How do you know me?" Kurt asked, gesturing to Wes and to his head and to himself again.

Wes took a moment, seeming to try to think of the words he needed to get the point across. "Ah.. Blaine? Blaine, um talk? Uh..Talk Kurt." As he gestured to Kurt again.

"Blaine?" He started excitedly, "Blaine told you about me?" His heart flip flopped bit in his chest as he let out a fond smile. Wes nodded with a knowing smile. If Kurt had known him better, he probably would have smacked him fondly for looking at him that way.

"Does Blaine talk about me, Kurt, to .. everyone?" he gesture largely, as if to include the whole forest in their discussion. This one took Wes a bit to comprehend, but eventual gained a look of recognition. He shook his head.

"Blaine talks Kurt to Wes," Gesturing to himself again," Wes. No.. eh.."

"Not everyone? Just Wes?" Wes nodded again, saying, "Yes." as if it were a question, asking if he was using the word correctly. To which Kurt nodded encouragingly.

"Blaine talk ..Wes.. Wes good.. friend. Wes.. brother," He communicated. So, Kurt was meeting the best friend. He felt it quite an honor that he was being so well received, especially considering how unhappy Wes was to see him originally. He was so, so lucky it was Wes and not someone else. So Kurt responded with a big smile.

"Uhh.. Blaine. Blaine here." He gestured to the forrest in the direction he came from.

"Blaine's out here?" Kurt suddenly felt his stomach doing a little jig with anxious nerves.

"Yes. Blaine Wes here.. Uhh," he made stabbing motions with his knife.

"Kill..? Hunt! To hunt?" Wes nodded again. He grabbed at Kurt's arm, seeming to pull him towards the Prince out in the woods, but his hand caught at a scratch and Kurt hissed.

"Kurt, .. Kurt ..hurt", Wes seemed to just notice the red scrapes along the exposed portions of Kurt's body and holes torn in his clothes. Kurt nodded wincing a bit. Wes made a plotting face and looked to Kurt again.

"Kurt .. eh, wait. Wes.." He gesture with his hands like he was reaching out and grabbing something.

"Get?"

"Yes, get Blaine. Wait Kurt." He looked questioningly, asking if Kurt understood. To which Kurt nodded. As Wes ran off to find his best friend, Kurt sat down on the nearest log and looked over his scratches anxiously awaiting their return.

* * *

So that was the famous Kurt, huh? Wes chuckled to himself. He was exactly as Blaine described him. Even down to the giggle. Wes knew Blaine was already head over heals for the boy. This Kurt. Wes liked him. He seemed like a nice kid. Kurt was so polar opposite to everything he and Blaine had grown up with, though. He seemed very unused to their lifestyle. Well obviously. But it was almost humorous to see such a person that was used to a regimented world in place so untamable. Kurt's people wanted the land to work for them. He and Blaine's knew that they had to work with the land. When you lived out here you just got used to how the earth moved and grew and died and was born again. Wes thought it was a bit of a pity that Kurt had never gotten to experience that knowledge. But, Wes mused, today was lesson one.

"Blaine!" The head of curls snapped to look at the intruder with a "shut the hell up!" kind of face with his arrow still poised. But Wes heard the quick gallop through the leaves and an arrow smacking into a tree stump that proved the look to be insufficient.

"Wesley! I could've gotten a buck!" Blaine whined, running over to retrieve the arrow. And glaring bit at his friend.

"Sorry! Sorry man. I was just excited."

"Yeah, why is that?" Blaine grumbled, picking up his three rabbits he'd caught with his snares and slinging the stringed lot over his shoulder.

"I just ran into someone here in the woods," Said teasingly, rocking back and forth on his toes.

Blaine looked at him confusedly," Who?"

"Oh, no one," Wes started, voice still lilting teasingly," Just this amazing little brunette with eyes so blue I can't even describe them." He finished with a smirk, walking away.

"…Wait, what?! Wes are serious? Kurt? Kurt's out here? What could he be doing out here? Where is he? How did you find him? Why is he out here by himself, that's so dangerous! He doesn't know his way-"

"Blaine. Shut up. I told him I'd take you to him."

"How? Since when do you speak English?"

"I don't, really. But I heard you and the chief speak it. I just picked it up from context. It doesn't really matter, does it? Let's go fetch your boy toy."

* * *

After a while, Kurt finally started to her the sound of feet crunching into the leaves carpeting the forrest. He turned his head toward the sound and met Blain's gaze from the distance. They both immediately broke into huge grins, Kurt standing to meet him and Blaine running to reach him. Kurt took the sight of the indian in. He was dress very similarly to Wes. He also was wearing the scarce amount of clothing, causing his legs, torso and arms to be fully exposed. Kurt flushed a bit at the sight of Blaine's muscular thighs and calves, his toned stomach with the V muscle that trailed into cloth. His eyes caught in surprise when he notices a ring of black around his muscular right bicep above a few pieces of material tied around his arms. It had a repetitive design framed by horizontal lines. Kurt was a bit confused as to what it was, paint, maybe? Blaine also had a bow slung over his broad shoulders so that the string stretched across his chest. When he got closer, Kurt noticed a bag full of arrows clipped to his waist and what seemed to be a bunch of rabbits strung together. Kurt couldn't help but wrinkle his nose a bit at that, but he ignored it for the elation at seeing Blaine in his own element.

"Kurt! What are you doing out here by yourself?" Blaine said slowing down when he was in speaking distance. He didn't stop walking forward though, and finally reached the European clasping both of the boy's hands in his. "Not that I'm not happy to see you.." He said, blushingly.

Kurt had been looking a bit remorseful until Blaine's admission, to which he responded with a bashful smile of his own.

"I was on a walk and kind of ended up out here," Kurt said noncommittally.

"Kurt, that's really not safe for you to do," Blaine almost scolded him as if he were a small child, dipping his head in order to catch the perpetrator's eyes. When Kurt looked into the golden hazel, he melted.

"I know. I'm sorry. I should have been more careful," He shifted his weight and winced.

Blaine noticed immediately and quickly ushered the boy to sit in his previous makeshift chair.

Wes simply watched quietly and took in how gentle Blaine's touches to the pale boy were. Blaine pulled out his pouch of water and ripped one of the ties off of his arm, wetting it and cleaning off the scratches he could see. He had gently pulled Kurt's arm toward him and went to work at softly dabbing away the blood, soothing the shallow wounds. He then moved onto the other arm, at which point Wes cleared his throat pointedly. They both stopped looking at each other long enough to look at him.

Kurt watched with a bit of awe as Wes and Blaine spoke to each other. They spoke quickly in complete and utter gibberish, and Kurt occasionally thought he heard his name. Wes then walked over to Blaine, taking the rabbits off of his shoulder slinging them onto his and turned to Kurt, giving him a strange wave and a smile, saying some sort of farewell. Then he turned and began to walk away.

"What was that all about?" Kurt asked.

"Oh Wes just was going to head back home and tell my father that I'd be a bit late. Tell him I'm in a hunting sort of mood, I guess." He responded with a laugh.

Kurt smiled, "That was kind of him." he started, "You know, I think I like the fellow."

"Hopefully not more than me, right?" Blaine said with another laugh, this time a bit more nervous like he hadn't actually been planning on saying that aloud.

Kurt looked at the boy who'd momentarily stopped soothing his wounds to look at him questioningly. "..Of course not.." Kurt started slowly, "Wes is little more than a stranger to me."

"So am I, Kurt." Blaine responded with one of the most serious looks he'd seen on his face. "We only just met, really."

"It doesn't feel that way," Kurt whispered, as if any louder a response would scare Blaine away like a deer.

"What do you mean?" The indian returned just as quietly. It was times like this when Kurt saw a very vulnerable side to this mysterious warrior. For some reason, it felt like it was something not a lot of people were used to seeing. He felt a bit honored, if truth be told.

"I don't know," He broke eye contact to gaze down to his hands that were idly twiddling together. "I feel like I don't have to hide around you. Like you understand me without trying." His voice was starting to shake now, "I've never really had that, you know?"

Blaine was taken aback. This was more of an admission than the very few times they'd spoken. Blaine had come to think of his encounters with the brunette as short bursts of nervous energy. Even though things were moving slowly, it felt like a flash of emotion, when ending, left him a little colder inside. But what Kurt was saying made sense. From the few times he'd been with Kurt, he found that he appeared to be this protector. Like he was this strange, exotic presence that would swoop in and fix whatever was wrong. But that was only one part of himself. There was the side that always tried so hard to be the hero, not really for the recognition, but to reverse whatever havoc that had been brought about. To stop the suffering of other people. This was one reason his father thought he'd be so good as Chief. Kurt was basically saying that no one had every put him first, Blaine deduced. No one had ever been there to effectively mold the pieces back together. This just made Blaine sad. He understood how it felt. Kurt was that outlet for him in many ways too. He swooped into his life and made him feel so much less hopeless. He gave him a reason.

Blaine had to agree with Kurt because even though they didn't know that much about each other, they still somehow filled a hole in the other's lives that no one else had filled before.

"I do." was all Blaine could say in response. He continued with nursing the cuts and scrapes along Kurt's beautiful skin. He moved from his arm and up to his shoulder, the the few on his neck. He hesitated when he got to the boy's face, but did get to work on a scrape that was along his jaw. Finally, he said, "I don't want us to be strangers anymore, Kurt," very quietly, moving up to a few small marks from where a few briars had pricked him. He hadn't noticed close he was to Kurt until he looked into the blue spheres just a few inches from him. His hand ceased movement, leaving him to stare silently into Kurt's eyes.

"I.. I don't either.." Kurt was barely even whispering. From a few feet away, one would think he was just mouthing words. Kurt's heart was beating out of his chest and was afraid to move, lest Blaine see how hard he was shaking. His eyes kept darting down to Blaine's lips, and he couldn't help wonder if they were as soft as they looked. His eyes came back to Blaine's and he his heart almost stopped. The look he was receiving was so full of wonder and care and warmth that he spoke without realizing. Almost like someone else was coming up with his words, "Blaine I.. Can.. C-can I..?" he stuttered whilst leaning even closer. Blaine bobbed his head quickly and Kurt closed the now very small gap between them.

The first touch of soft lips almost caused Blaine to gasp aloud. That dizziness that he's felt with Kurt before was back in full force. He felt Kurt press his lips more firmly against his but his body hadn't quite caught up with his brain. Finally, started to kiss back, breathing kind of shakily through his nose. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. Never in his eighteen years of living would he have imagined this would be his life. Falling for a boy from England, and said boy kissing him sweetly in the most beautiful moment his mind could come up with. Their lips moved together slowly, kind of getting used to the feeling. Like the tide pulling away and pushing back in a sort of harmonious dance.

Kurt could barely believe what was happening. Not only was he kissing the most gorgeous boy he'd ever laid eyes on, but he had initiated it. Like, what? Everything about this experience was overwhelming, from the hesitant caress of callous fingers ghosting up his neck to pull him closer, to the way Blaine had started to gently suck his lower lip into his mouth, lightly dragging teeth over it. The pale boy could hardly hear anything save for the sound of their breathing that seemed far too loud and the sound of roaring in his ears.

Finally, they pulled away slightly breathless and just look at each other for a moment before chuckling a bit to break the tangible tension. Kurt felt it might be a bit off putting if he were to start happy dancing and singing to the heavens in the current situation, so he refrained.

"Blaine.. I-"

"I've never felt like this about anyone before, Kurt," Blaine blurted out. "I .. You make me question everything I've ever known."

Kurt smiled tentatively, "I do?"

"Yes," Blaine started, standing up and beginning to pace a bit, "The way I grew up, things were always put together in a way that was laid out before me. Like if I accomplished a certain number of tasks, things would work out favorably for me. But I couldn't do them. I couldn't fall in love with some girl, I mean- They're all very nice and all and they aren't bad company, but as harsh as it sounds, no one girl varies from the other in my eyes. They all toss about their hair and coo over the men when they arrive home with some impressive kill. They are all the same, yet I am expected to pick one. My father sitting over my shoulder as if he were a vulture.

"And then I meet you, and every care and stress flies out of my head because, as crazy as it sounds, you seem to be the answer to all of my questions. No matter how confusing these feelings are, I look at you or even think about your smile and I see that the answer is insignificant. To my heart, you are what I need. As of late, you have been what keeps me awake at night, wondering what you're doing. Wondering if you are reading or are already asleep. I wonder if you are smiling or if you are crying, because I've never felt that kind of pain, Kurt. Seeing you when you were crying. I just want to be there for you, with you. And when I think of these things, the consequences do not seem so severe. "

By the end of his speech his speech had sped to an almost indistinguishable jumble of words as his accent thickened in his haste, his hands flying about in lively gestures, feeling the pent up words spill from with him to the open air surrounding them. His eyes caught Kurt's that were filling with moisture.

"No, no I- Kurt I just told you I hate to see you upset," He rushed over to the boy, pulling into his chest with strong, warm arms.

"I'm not upset, Blaine. I promise it's not that," The brunette choked out. Pulling back a little to speak.

"What, then?"

Kurt blushed and trained his eyes on his hands, "I never, ever thought I'd hear anyone say anything half as beautiful as that to me," he whispered as his chin trembled a little. Blaine saw this and made a cooing noise and just pulled him back close, feeling rivets of tears slid down his shoulder. He could hardly process what Kurt had said. How in the world has someone as beautiful and flawless as Kurt not had poems and songs and loud declarations of love made for him? That's what Blaine wanted to do. He felt himself lucky that Kurt didn't seem to have any ties to anyone else when they'd met. He wanted Kurt to smile and laugh and feel as amazing as Blaine felt just thinking about him. He felt Kurt kind of shake. At first he thought the poor boy was sobbing, but then he heard a giggle. That infectious kind of giggle Kurt would do sometimes prompting a big stupid smile to consume Blaine's face. The boy was pulling back, wiping at his eyes and rosy cheeks to dry them.

"I apologise," another giggle, "It feels like all I do around you is cry."

"I just wish I wasn't the cause of it," He responded looking shame-faced.

"No, Blaine. It's a good thing. You know, I can't remember the last time I let myself cry," He sniffed, finally lowering his hands and looking the indian in the eyes with a sheepish grin.

Blaine's eyebrows were knit, "Why is that?" Kurt took a moment to answer because he was looking at how Blaine's head was tilted to the side giving him the perfect mixture of innocence and naiveté.

"I don't know. I just.. after a while, you realize that letting everyone see how vulnerable you are only encourages them to take advantage of you." He wanted to stop all of this from spilling out of his mouth, his face seeming to twitch trying to harden into his regular facade. But after all the sweet things Blaine just said it, he felt it was hardly fair to close himself off now, slamming down the walls and refusing to communicate. "When people realize you're different, they look for any excuse to punish you for it. The less it appears to effect you, the less they get out of it. I don't know…" He was suddenly being hit by a wave of recollection as to why he came out here in the first place, hating the man even more for invading this moment.

All the while, Kurt was looking in any direction that wasn't Blaine. Even though he was saying these things, he wasn't quite ready to be that direct about it. Because of this, he didn't see the look of anger that was pinching the indian's face, being held in check only by Blaine's ability to control his temper. Why would anyone hurt Kurt? What offense could he possibly have done to merit whatever it was that they'd done to him? Blaine's eyes never left the brunette's face, notice how the look of discomfort plagued his eyes. Blaine didn't want to ruin this moment by making Kurt rehash stories that he obviously was not excited to think about, so he digressed and simply moved to sit beside the boy. He wrapped an arm around the European's waist and grabbed a hand with his free arm. Kurt stiffened the slightest bit under the sudden contact, but breathed out and sort of melted into it, thankful Blaine was not dragging the subject on.

Soon, his head drooped to Blaine's shoulder. He felt Blaine press his cheek into the top of his head and smiled. He marveled at how easy the contact was.

"Can I ask a question, Blaine?"

"Of course."

"What is on you're arm?"

"Huh?"

Kurt reluctantly pulled away. He pulled the said arm toward himself, trailing his fingers lightly over the pattern that he'd wondered about earlier,"This." He pulled his fingers away, expecting to see paint on his fingers but found none.

"Oh, haha. That? That is a tattoo."

"A tattoo?" Kurts eyebrows were scrunched in confusion.

"Yeah, a tattoo. It shows I am in the lineage of the chief, I guess.." He trailed off, gauging Kurt's reaction.

"Wait, so it's always there?" The boy asked with a glint of wonder in his eyes.

"Yes. Yes, it's permanent. You've never seen one before?"

"Not to my recollection.." The boy mumbled, bitting softly on his lower lip. His fingers were tracing around the pattern, his head tilting in amazement. "How did you.. you know, get it?"

"Very painfully, I'll tell you that," Blaine huffed out a laugh. It was odd to him that he and Kurt had somehow drifted into this conversation given the severity of their last. But he just smiled and let Kurt cuddle back under his arm, resting his chin on the top of the brunette's hair. Kurt was still confused, but he thought to himself that he'd better get used to that feeling. He shrugged the confusion away and snuggled into warm chest, trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks at the fact he was touching bare skin.

They sat in silence for a while. It could have been a few minutes or a few hours. Neither of them cared. Kurt was hit with how tired he was. Apparently going through multiple emotional spikes in one day can really tire you out. Kurt snuggled his head tighter into the crook of Blaine's neck prompting a low giggle from the boy, making him rub his warm hands up and down Kurt's arms in an oddly protective manner. This was the strangest feeling. Feeling protected and not having any qualms about it. After so long of not letting anyone in, it seemed Blaine could waltz right into the perfect space in Kurt's heart left open for him.

Suddenly, a loud gunshot rippled through the forrest, it's sound bouncing off of the trees as it swept past the boys. Kurt jumped, Blaine was less shocked but still he stood quickly. "Come on."

"Blain-" Kurt started to no avail.

"It's not safe for you out here. I'm taking you home." His voice was eerily calm and his brows drawn together.

"What was that? What that one of your people?"

"No. Not one of mine. You'd probably be better off if it were. But you can't be seen here." Blaine was already headed towards the hill, hand clasped onto Kurt's elbow.

"What? Why?" Kurt hated himself in that moment. Blaine was trying to protect him and all he could think about was if Blaine was embarrassed by him. _Not the time to throw a pity party, Kurt!_

Blaine suddenly stopped in his steady trek forward and turned to the boy behind him, his honey eyes sharp and intent. "Kurt, I wish it were different. But your people don't care for us. They don't understand us and have no interest in trying. If you are seen here with me, I don't know what might happen. Something terrible, I'd assume." He keeps on in his haste, having now reached the base of the hill. He lets go of Kurt and starts to climb.

Kurt decided not to argue at this point. He stumbled up the cliff as best he could. Panting and overwhelmed, he felt himself slip on a patch of moss all the while cursing the universe when Blaine, without looking back, snatched his arm and kept him alight.

"Are you alright, Kurt?" He asked sweetly, turning to glance at him.

Despite himself, Kurt blushed and nodded, "Yes, thank you Blaine."

The boy simply smiled and heaved himself up the hill. Kurt wanted to glare at the Indian for the easiness at which it came to him. Kurt was long since out of breath by the time they reached the summit where the ground flattened out. Kurt's luck just kept on rolling in when he felt the first few raindrops splash into his skin, "Oh my fuck." He blurted out. He decided that nature was not on his good-list today. He caught Blaine's eye when he realized he said that aloud and the boy was trying to keep a laugh from bubbling up out of him.

"Really? Two raindrops and you're life's over?" The boy quipped incredulously.

"I already fell down a hill today, mister. I'm allowed to complain." Kurt sniffed. Apparently Blaine found his haughtiness endearing, seeing as he immediately slid his fingers in-between Kurt's. Then the act dropped altogether. There was no way Kurt would be able to keep up such a disdainful expression with a goofily smiling Blaine attached to his arm. They continued to walk to the house whilst Blaine teased him. It didn't bother Kurt one bit. He just laughed and snipped and retorted as good as he got. He was glad the intense Blaine from before was gone. He very much appreciated the worry, but he really didn't think anything that bad would happen if a colonist saw him in the woods. He could always come up with a story about too many ales and taking a wrong turn somewhere. He doubted anyone would look into it.

However, it was a bit exciting to see that side of Blaine. It made him realize why he was planned as the proceeding chief. No doubt he had the power to lead. He just took on such a sharp, not quite demanding, but definitely decisive tone. Kurt was oddly surprised by the display, and truthfully couldn't say that it was unattractive. Thinking this made a bit of color paint his cheeks.

By the time the house was in view, the rain was ramping up to a fever pitch and without the aid of trees to canopy them, Kurt broke out into a run. Blaine just laughed out a huff of surprise and chased after him. Kurt ran up the three steps and stopped to catch his breath in the coverage of the porch. When Blaine made it to the porch as well, the first thing he did was bend forward and shake droplets of water into the air like a dog after a bath.

Kurt, being somehow even more soaked than he was to start with, gave the boy a playful shove and a sorry attempt at a scowl. "Thanks for that. As if I weren't already wet enough!" He exclaimed, falling into giggles. He looked down to start attempting to ring out his shirt tail. However, while he was distracted, Blaine was holding out cupped hands under to edge of the porch cover, letting big drops of water fall into his hands.

"So. you wouldn't like it if I did something like.. this!" The Indian said, flinging the contents of his hands at the European. All he heard was a squeak and an exasperated "Blaine!" and he burst into laughter.

Kurt wanted to be mad at this..this goon who refused to let him dry off, but he just couldn't. Not with the way his eyes were crinkling up at the corners, he head thrown back, and his big bright smile on display for all to see. Kurt thought that this was the first time he'd really seen Blaine laugh like this. He couldn't be more beautiful. Instead of retaliating, Kurt kind of just stood there in a pout, hoping the pity would stop the water from coming. After a few moments, it seem to work. Blaine brought his eyes back to the boy and made a semi- cooing, semi-laughing noise and scooped him into a hug.

"Go ahead and laugh!" Kurt proclaimed in 'woe',"I know I look like a drowned rat right about now," He ended with a chuckle.

"You look beautiful." Blaine replied seriously, "You look beautiful always."

Kurt's eyes captured Blaine's. He couldn't really reply, or move for that matter. This thing, this…relationship was such an anomaly to him. They barely new each other, but everything said between them seemed to flow so easily. There was a strange honesty that Kurt had never experienced before. For someone like Blaine, this kind, brave beautiful Blaine, to say these sweet things to him seemed like his whole world was crashing into a whole new surrounding. One that, while making little sense to the boy in question, was bright and new and oblivious to all things negative. He didn't ever want to lose this feeling.

"Shut up," He chuckled a few beats later, shaking his head and turning away.

"Kurt," Blaine grabbed his arm and turned him back to face him. "I know you don't see it, but I do. I don't know the reason for you not to see it, but all I want to do is show you. I want to show you just how amazing you are."

Kurt refused to cry again, so he just buried his head into Blaine's shoulder and wrapped his arms firmly around the boy's warm torso. He ignored the sensation of his palms touching bare skin in favor of focusing on the sound of Blaine's breathing, the scent of rain and the forest that seemed to cling to the boy wherever he went. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding for a touch too long when Blaine's arms came up to circle his back, pulling him even closer.

"Kurt?" Blaine whispered.

"Yes, Blaine?" The boy replied, his words muffled by Blaine's shoulder.

"You never really told me why you were in the forest.." He felt the pale boy tense in his arms but no answer was forth coming. "I know that you wouldn't have come if there weren't a good reason. You are smarter than that." He pulled Kurt by his shoulders far enough from him to see his face. Kurt wasn't looking at him and his eyes remained downcast. He shook his head ever so slightly. Blaine ducked his head a bit further to see the tense, panicked expression of the boy's face. "Kurt?" He tried once more.

Kurt took in a shaky breath and opened his mouth to speak-

"Kurt?" A third voice accompanied the tense conversation. They both jumped to see Finn standing in the doorway, wary of the display in front of him.

"Sorry to uh, interrupt or whatever, but umm.. Aunt Emily just wanted to make sure you got in okay. The storm is getting pretty bad.." Finn fumbled.

"He's right. Kurt I'm really sorry, but my father will be worried about me if I don't get back soon." Blaine said with a wilted expression, Kurt looked slightly heartbroken.

"I don't think that's a good idea Prince Blaine." He turned to see the Blonde woman from before standing with Finn at the doorway carrying her daughter on her hip. "I'm sure your father would be more worried about you out in this lightning."

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly." Blaine started, "Besides I'm used to-" A huge crack of thunder snapped over head and before he knew it he had another armful of Kurt who quickly realized what he'd done and jumped away, blushing.

"Maybe you're right, Mrs. Hummel. Of course, as long as I'm not imposing." Blaine continued with such an air of properness that Kurt bit back a chuckle.

"It's no trouble at all dear." She replied with a warm smile, "How about we sit down to dinner and see if we can wait it out. If not, you can stay here for the night." Kurt, Blaine, and Finn, for some reason, blushed at this. "So come on in, boys before you catch a cold. Kurt you really shouldn't be out here." Emily continued to chat as the boys followed her into the house. Blaine entered the warm, little cottage last with trepidation of his first real encounter with the Hummels.


End file.
